Little Kitsune

Little Kit's Character Vault

Annelle Caldera

Arkheus Identification Card

Bureau of Public Citizen Management

Name: Annelle Caldera

Aliases: Ann, Anne, Anna

Gender: Female

Age: 23

Job Title: Systems Engineer

Extended Description

Height: 5'5

Weight 122lbs, 55.3kg

Hair Color: Dark Auburn

Eye Color: Chocolate Brown

Skin Color: Light White

Scars:

• Faded scar on the middle left of her abdomen, where she was stabbed some odd years ago.

Tattoos:

• Dandelion and Birds tattooed on her right shoulder, up towards her neck.
• The Valkyrie Sword , her old squad insignia, is tattooed on her left bicep.

Modifications:

• None

Cybernetics:

• None

Other:

• Annelle is a smoker, and favors a brand that gives off sweet smelling blue-gray smoke.

Appearance

Ann is a bit of a trend setter, favoring stylized jackets stylized with retro, aesthetic cybernetic looking pieces. Beneath that she's usually sporting a tank top, but isn't unknown to wear a shirt with a wonky pattern or design on it. Lower, she usually keeps it simple with jeans or synthetic, skin tight pants. She's not one to be caught dead in a skirt. She's a lover of dark colors, and almost always wears boots, but to contradict that statement, she favors wearing a bright red, kerchief-esque scarf. One of her most prized possessions are her goggles, equipped with visual feeds and blue vision—A form of night vision.

Anne is over average height, and build, though beneath the layers of clothes she has built up a bit of finely tuned muscle from her time as a Watchman, and consistent fieldwork as a systems engineer. Her features are rather soft and girly, and she prefers to keep her hair long, with punk styled bangs. She's also not exactly voluminous when it comes to her womanly assets, keeping with her rather dainty, girlish appearance.

Job Description

Anne used to be a Watchman, part of the esteemed law enforcement officials. She passed the academy with average marks, but quickly grew on her new assigned squad. They became somewhat of a family, and Anne was quickly recruited into getting the squad's insignia tattooed on herself. Her duties were that of what you'd except of a law enforcement officer; She'd respond to crimes both petty and large, and has been in her fair share of stakeouts and firefights. Though the squad as a whole never accomplished any major achievements, her time working as a Watchman has built up her muscle and stamina, a physique which is maintained through the demands of her latest job.

Taken in beneath the Sys.Admin corporation, Anne found herself enjoying the life of a systems engineer. She had an office, and a lovable, slightly eccentric coworker by the name of Elliot Watts, self proclaimed 'Hacker Extraordinaire'. Here she developed an understanding of electronic systems, especially coding. Primarily focused towards infrastructure maintenance, the directors on the upper levels would hand out alternative tasks from time to time. Anne has done everything from installing security hubs, programming timing systems, debugging various assortments of code, and so forth. She's also partnered with DigiCorp and Syndustries engineers in order to program operable vehicle code, and has helped APD debug an error with their drone systems. She's no stranger to the inner workings of machines, which is where the engineering part comes into play.

She's handy machinery, and has traveled all over the Ark to upgrade, maintain, and repair these sorts of systems—Albeit on a temporary work pass. From the foundries and assemblies in sector five, to the water recycling pumps in sector one. In today's world, knowing how to replace a part isn't enough anymore, at times strings of code need to be updated to work in tandem with the new, or upgraded machinery. Thus the duality of her job. She's devoted her life to this job, finding enjoyment in the field work.

Biography

P S Y C H O L O G I C A L I N T E R V I E W

"Please state you name for the record Miss," A pointy nosed man in a crisp white collared shirt asked. He adjusted his glasses and pressed a hand to the table set between him and his client, opening up a computerized interface. A dossier pulled up with information about the auburn haired woman before him, including her training exams.

"Annelle Caldera," Anne replied formally, underlying tones of nervousness in her voice.

"You're the daughter of Lucias, yes? I heard he had high hopes for you," The clerk smiled reassuringly. To Anne however it looked sinister, snake-like. There had been a lot of pressure put onto her because of this fact, her prestigious father. The Head of the Watchmen, a man who escalated himself to the very top. Everybody had expected one of two things from her, to forge her own trail in a blaze of glory, or to ride her father's success. Anne watched the clerk, mustering the strength to keep her face passive as he flipped through her records.

"I see you know work as a Systems Engineer, why did you leave the watchmen?" The clerk asked, fixing his sharp eyes on her. Suddenly the weight of this interview set itself upon her. This man could put her away somewhere dark and isolated if he deemed her too fucked up to be among society, or even if he just wanted to. Who would question him? Who questions the questioners?

"I.." Anne started, picking through her words carefully, "I lost my squad, my friends. After that, I didn't feel like I could adequately perform my duties." Anne took a breath, willing her eyes to stop watering. The memory was still fresh in her mind, their faces, what was left of them.

"Yes, it says here you quit for personal reasons, in the comments you only put 'I can't do this anymore', elaborate," He demanded, leaning forward and folding his hands on the table.

Anne took a breath, balling her fists tightly to try and distract her mind, "We were the Valkyrie Swords.."

It was an average night, punctuated by a light drizzle of rain. It had been dark in the slums, but here it was practically abyssal. Anne crouched inside a rusted building, her hidden form peering through metal blinds that refused to move anymore. Her squad was lined up to either side of her, bodies barely moving as they mimicked the stillness of the night. Anne watched the rain falling, so soft it barely made a sound. Her mind pondered how it all worked, the weather, the day cycles. She always did that, lost herself in thoughts of machines of how they worked. Receiving a stern tongue from her father about how she should be training, something he'd been pushing since she had been young. Even then she only earned average marks. She could practically feel the disappointment in his eyes, but he had never showed it, he just kept pushing.

"Maybe this will be the night you get a name, huh?" The woman next to Anne said. She turned to look at her squad captain, a blonde haired green eyed beauty by the name of Madaline—But everyone just called her Sunshine. You always got a nickname after you earned a story, it related somehow. The man next to Madaline chuckled quietly, Ox, and he was built like one too.

"You think sho ah?" He chuckled again, a quiet rumbling. Anne remembered the first time she'd met Ox, a little over six foot tall he cast a shadow that should could nap beneath. That felt like so long ago, a younger version of her even though it had been a measly two years. It might as well have been a lifetime ago.

"Shut up you oaf," Marcy hissed. Despite the name, Marcy was a man, the titled was derived from the word 'mercy'. Which was something he did not give.

"Both of you quiet, look," Sunshine said, leaning a little closer. The small square lit up for just a moment before going dark again. From the first entrance two flashes signaled, which were returned by the new arrival. Anne never quite understood why a signal that was older than dirt was still used.

Car doors slammed shut and idle engines became quiet as shadowed figures emerged, loaded with duffel bags and armed. A table was quickly set up in the middle, flanked by each faction's soldiers. The two leaders stood to either side, showing their wares and negotiating deals. Anne turned on her visor's interface. She pressed the thumb of her left hand against the palm of her hands, activating the interface nodes in her glove. She moved her hand slowly through the air, manipulating the imagery on her visor, marking the targets.

"Marked," she whispered. A second later three small blips hovered at the edge of her vision, notifying her that she was linked up with her squad. A few seconds passed as Sunshine read the situation. As Anne watched another window popped up, Sunshine was profiling the two at the table. The first was a key negotiator for Sapphique, Malcolm Croyle. The dossier the department had on him popped up, Anne closed it. She had read his report at least twice. Sunshine sucked in a breath as the second window popped up, Anthony Tandon, a civil rights spokesman. He's led peaceful protests and given a number of speeches in an attempt to fight the corrupt power of the government.

"Holy shit, is he Liberata?" An unfamiliar voice asked. Anne focused on her interface, A blazing sun and chariot had appeared just below the blips for her squad. Sunshine must have linked up with the Dawn Riders, another group of watchmen posted up just across the square.

"Eyes on the price boys," Sunshine whispered through the comms, "Case is open, Axel you got eyes on it?"

"Yea I see it," A husky voice murmuered, "Looks like a weapon's deal, look like Mr.Tandon is buying something pretty big."

"Alright ladies, wait for the bang," Sunshine ordered, pulling a sophisticated canister off her waist belt. She carefully nudged the door open, though it still let out a quiet squeak. One of the nearby figures turned towards the sound, elbowing his buddy in the ribs. They took a step towards the hiding place of Anne and her squad just as Sunshine rolled the device out. It let out a shrill whine half a second before exploding into a blinding glare of light. The men screamed, falling to the ground, along with most of the others present in the square.

A door at the opposite end of the clearing flew open, The Dawn Riders simultaneously moving out with weapons ready at the same moment that the Valkyrie Swords filed out of the building. Sunshine fired two quick pops, downing the closest blinded men and the others took that as their cue. A hail of gunfire opened up in the square, ballistics pinged off the walls and orange balls of kinetic energy punctured through metal surfaces, leaving smoldering holes.

It was pure chaos as the seperate criminal forces scrambled for cover, each opening fire on any target that wasn't their own. Tandon yanked a briefcase off the table and high tailed it towards his vehicle, the tall wiry man running with reckless abandon through the torrential walls of gunfire. Anne moved steadily towards him, dropping anything flagged red that crossed her path.

"Tandon's making a break for it!" Another strange voice declared, another Dawn Rider Anne didn't know.

"On it," Anne said, slinging her weapon and turning on her mag gloves. She sprinted towards the car just as the door closed. Its rubber tires shrieked as it accelerated in reverse out of the alleyway. The driver was skilled, throwing the wheel and spinning the car just as it exited the alleyway. Anne dug down, reaching for speed. She'd never been terribly fast, but today she was fast enough. She lunged at the side of the vehicle just as it started gaining momentum, feeling her gloves latch onto its metal surface.

The vehicle began picking up speed. The rear passenger window came down and a body leaned out, pointing a barrel in Anne's face. She tapped the boot of her heel, feeling the energy kick on the magnets in her boot as she swung her leg out. The magnet caught the gun and Anne used the momentum to swing down as hard as she could. The gunner let out a cry as he was ripped from the window and fell beneath the tires. The car rocked as it rolled over the body, the driver locked the tires sending them into a squealing skid sideways up the road. Around them traffic honked in protest, trying to move out of the way.

The vehicle smashed into a transit bus. The force of the impact launched Anne into the vehicle, connecting her head into the rear passenger door with adequate force. She slumped against the side of the car, her magnets holding her upright, if a bit skewed. Tandon stepped out of the car, blood running down his face and his coat tails swaying in the light breeze.

"Foolish girl," He seethed, pulling a pistol on Anne just as she started regaining some semblance of composure. Tandon reached over and switched her gloves off, letting Anne fall to the ground. He pressed a boot firmly against her throat, rage glittering in his eyes.

"Another government dog, following her master's orders. Tell me, do you play dead?" He asked, clicking back the hammer on his gun. Anne grunted, trying to shift his foot off of her.

"Anthony, enough," Someone said. In Anne's distraction another car had pulled up, followed by several others. Anthony seemed to shrug as he stepped back, allowing Anne to suck in ragged breaths of air. The voice was owned by a large man, muscular but not top heavy, he seemed evenly proportioned. He rubbed a grizzled hand against his thick, scruffy beard.

"I could use someone with your kind of determination," He reasoned, crouching next to Anne and placing his hands on his knees. Anne pulled herself up onto her knees, rubbing her throat. The burly man stood, reaching into his pocket and dropping an electronic card next to Anne. She reached out, taking it in her hand. The display flashed to life, showing a server address.

"Who—"

"Freeze!" Sunshine screamed, charging up the sidewalk with her gun drawn. Anne looked back to see her squad coming to her rescue. Sunshine barely paused for a breath before firing a shot. Anne reached her hand up, realizing that her squad hadn't seen the other Liberata vehicles arrive, and how could they, the other vehicles looked like any old civilian car.

"Sunshine wait, he's not—!" Anne struggled to shout, but the words came out in a wheezing rasp. Return fire poured out from all around her squad. Men and women dressed in plain clothes suddenly had weapons and weren't holding back. Muzzles flashed next to Anne's face, creating still images of blinding white light, followed by the sight of her squad...

"I see, surely that would leave to some.. traumatic stress, no?" The clerk asked, adjusting his glasses as he tapped out some notes onto the table.

Anne wiped at her eyes, willing herself to keep it together, "I just.. I," Anne was on the verge of breaking down into fitful sobs. It had only been a few months, hadn't it?

"How about your home life?" The clerk asked, flipping to another screen showing flowing meadows of grass, and rolling hills bathed beneath golden light

"Not much to say there," She replied with a bit of a waver in her voice, "Dad was always at work, but we had a nice home in Sector Two. I remembering baking with my mom on cold winter days, and kicking our feet in the stream during warmer weather. Dad was always at work, but he—"

"What did your father do back then?"

"He was a part of DigiCorp, one of their Gladiators," She answered, a visage of her farther dressed up in DigiCorp armor pulling itself to the forefront of her mind. He had been so much happier back then.

"What happened?"

"Is it relevant?" Anne questioned, raising an eyebrow at him. She was sure some of the effect was lost due to her red eyes, which were still partially watery.

"In a mental evaluation, everything counts, and we have lost time to make up for," The clerk explained, folding his hands and once more fixing his penetrating gaze on Anne.

"Hey, the delays weren't my fault alright—" Anne began, trying to defend herself.

"Yes yes, You were saying about your father?"

"Ah... Right," Anne said, digging back into her memories, "He liked Digicorp, but at the end of the day it was a corporation and I guess he just, wanted to make a difference you know? Especially after my mom died."

"How did she pass?"

Anne sighed, steeling her frayed nerves and letting out a morbid chuckle, "She stepped on somebody's toes. We were walking home from grocery shopping, I was still young, too young to help carry the groceries anyways. I was dancing around her, doing kid stuff. She tried to pull me out of somebody's way, wound up bumping into another person and scuffed his shoes. He looked like the wealthy, hoity-toity type, fancy suit, dark shades, bleached hair you know? Well, he got pretty mad, looking at the scuff mark on his shoes. I still remember the sneer in his face when he shoved my mother back, she fell, right into the road."

"Was he prosecuted?"

"What do you think? They probably slapped his hand and said 'temper temper'."

The clerk nodded, "Such injustice in this world, it's a shame. Your mother was a fine woman."

"How do you?" Anne trailed off as the clerk answered her by tapping his finger on the tapping, as if to say 'I know everything'. Anne leaned back in her chair, letting out a huff of air that flipped her bangs from her face.

"Do you talk to your father?"

"Not since I left the Watchmen, pretty sure I've disappointed him but unfortunately that's overshadowed by all of this unyielding hate."

"Why do you hate him?"

"Why?" Anne responded incredulously, leaning forward, "I don't know, how about for not being there to protect her? How about for shutting down and leaving me alone after my mom died. How about for trying to force me to become his littler soldier ever since that day, always pushing me, dragging me along behind him in this grand vision of Father and Daughter cleaning up the streets? For devoting himself to his work, escalating himself all the way up into the president's lap to be hand fed his fucking biscuits and leaving me alone to lock the door and microwave frozen fucking pizza? For looking at me with disappointment in his eyes every fucking time I'm in his presence, like it's my fault, like I'm this huge fucking failure."

Anne took a shuddering breath, she hadn't realized she had been shouting. She was standing now too, her grip on the edge of the table strong enough to scatter the pixels on the table. The clerk had the same look on his face, blank, all-knowing. She swore if he had smiled just then she would have decked him.

"I see, I believe I've collected enough data for this interview."

The statement come out of nowhere, ripping away all of Anne's steam. She plopped back down in the chair, feeling worry and anxiety eating away her rage. "So, how'd I do?" She asked, her frazzled mind signaled this was an appropriate time to laugh—so she did.

"You harbor a lot of resentment, towards the Watchmen, towards your father."

"God damn Doc, I think you just cured me," Anne remarked, feeling everything drain out of her. She felt empty, purposeless.

"I'm not going to put your away, Anne, I will however recommend your employer to move you to the basement level."

"Yea? Some dungeon to lock me away in?"

"Just the opposite actually. There's a man down there named Elliot Watts, he's one of us."

"One of us?" Anne asked suspiciously, suddenly feeling quite uncomfortable.

"You'll understand, in time. Learn before you decide. You're interview has already been submitted and cleared, you've been a normal, stable citizen for at least a month now."

"What are you talking about?"

"In time Anne, In time," The clerk said. His chair screeched quietly as she stood, closing the table's interface and leaving the room. Anne just sat there, she wasn't sure for how long. Time passed as she stared at the sliver of light peeking through the partially ajar door. Her thoughts running together, smashing into each other in an uncontrolled chaos.

"What the actual fuck?" She asked the empty air.

Inventory

Weapons:

• Defender Mark II: a standard civilian pistol, semi-automatic with an average rate of fire and lower bullet impact. Uses ballistic ammo and holds twelve 9mm rounds.

Armor:

• None

Gadgets:

• Her Goggles which can transmit and record video, and utilize blue vision, a form of better quality night vision.
• An Air Filtration Mask which does a handy job of allowing her to breath when the air is contaminated or otherwise unbreathable.
• A Wrist Pad that Sys.Admin loans out to its employees.
• Magnetic Shin Splints which allow her to travel along the magrails.

Key Items:

Miscellaneous: Blue brand cigarettes, a silver flip lighter, a black backpack

Pysker Dossier

Manifested Phenomena:

• Non-Applicable

Proficiencies:

• Smarts, Ann may not be a brain working down in sector four, but she's been gifted with a set of wits and guile that's helped her succeed in life. She understands how to look ahead and plan according for a situation, and usually sees more than one approach to a given subject. She's a sly, cunning gal.
• Coder, due to her line of work, Anne has a broad understanding of code and how to program a wide array of systems accordingly. This knowledge really centers around bigger machines, like vehicles and infrastructure, but she does have a bit of fine tuned know-how geared towards gadgets and accessories.
• Engineer, also due to her line of work, Anne knows her way around workshop machinery, vehicles, and structural systems. Though she's got more put in towards the latter, she is proficient enough in the other two to fix and reprogram most things, having worked on a multitude of things from civilian and military vehicles, to industrial machines and their components, timing cycles, and so forth.
• Old Habits, heavy lifting and field work aside, Anne has retained most of her physique from her time spent as a Watchman, which wasn't all that long ago. She has an exercise routine, which she does her best to keep up on, despite spoiling it somewhat with crap foods and snacks. Among this fitness she maintains, she's still not a bad shot with a gun. She's no sharpshooter, but she could hold her own.

Limitations:

• Abrasive, while she may have somewhat of a tactical mind, Anne often has a poor choice of words. She calls it as she sees it, and says it as she means it. Though she's not one to purposefully to step on someone's toes, she doesn't make it a habit to sugar coat her words either. She's also a poor liar.
• Critical Thinker, meaning Anne is most comfortable planning in low stress situations. She has a hard time focusing and making rapid decisions in high stress, intense environments, and prefers to calculate her plans thoroughly.
• No Man Left Behind, Annelle hates leaving people behind and will usually do everything in her power to ensure she protects, or at least saves, those she cares about.
• Duct Tape Bandaids, Anne is a very driven person, and likes to accomplish the goals she sets her sights on. At times she'll push herself harder than she should, even when it becomes detrimental to herself.

Likes:

• Smoking, and she's not planning to quit any time soon.
• Fast Food, especially New Modern Chinese Food, and Burgers.
• Dark Colors, no, it's not a phase.
• Flowers, especially bright and pretty ones, probably because they are so rare in The Core.
• Booze, it's liquid bread it's good for you.
• Boys and Girls, and sometimes she's a dirty flirt too.
• Coffee, nothing like a good pick-me-up.
• The smells of lavender, vanilla, and oranges.
• Really likes citrus fruit, especially oranges.

Dislikes:

• Her father, girl's got daddy issues.
• The Watchmen and the government in general, bunch of corrupt scum suckers.
• Dishonesty and Illicit dealings, especially gang members.
• Injustice, especially towards the poor.
• Squandering resources, leading to her dislike of most wealthy individuals.
• Tart, Bitter, and otherwise Sour tastes.
• Coconut, but just the meat. Smells and Coconut sauces are alright.

Important People:

• Lucias Caldera, her disassociated father
• Elliot Watts, her coworker from Sys.Admin

Character Relationships

Dr.Adley Underwood

Anne met Adley during the scientists early years at the institute. Anne had been called in on a temporary work permit to run diagnostic maintenance on essential lab machinery and systems. Anne was braving the frigid winds for a smoke, when Adley joined her. Anne was a fan of Adley's eccentric, straightforward nature and the two quickly hit it off during the few days that Anne spent there. Anne had a rundown of what the lab was trying to accomplish, and was privy to their desires of formulating a cure rather than a weapon. Anne connected them to the Liberata, with Elliot's help, and helped secure a method of secretive funding for their hidden research. Anne works mostly as an informant, and often ran messages to the lab through work calls of specific request, under some guise of Anne having prior knowledge to their largely experimental systems, which was true. What started as two people benefiting their respective causes has grown into a strong friendship between the two women.

Little Kit's Character Vault

Sybille - Sugar Glider

Image

Name Sybille

Age 20

Gender Trans-dimensional Butterfly (Female)

Affiliation 33^rd St. Razors (Four years)

Appearance

The first thing one would notice about Sybille, is she has the body to match the personification of the sugar glider mask she wears. She's short at 5'4, lithe with small limbs and smaller womanly assets to boot (34B/25/32 respectively). Not the kind of girl you'd look at twice typically. She's well toned, leading an active life, and leaving only hints of baby fat. She frequents the use of nail polish in strikingly bright colors and usually adorns a piece of jewelry at the least. She also frequents the use of flower, or sweet fruity scents. Her skin is pale white, like the color of freshly fallen snow, and nobody is quite sure of her ethnicity other than most likely Caucasian.

Her left arm is covered with a vibrant array of flowers in bright hues of pink, red, and purple accented by twisting green vines set on top of a backdrop of crystal blue waters. Her right arm mimics the same scheme, and both sleeves end at her wrist, flaring out just slightly in a smooth, transitional stop. In the upper center portion of her back in large, pink neon is the symbol for her gang "33^rd Street" above and slightly left of "RAZORS" in a jagged, graffiti style bordered in white. The piece appears to be set in a bed of red flowers, with a discarded teddy bear lying tangled in the plants. Recently a small sugar glider has been added poking out of the "O" of "Razor".

Additionally there is a small wreath tattooed around her left ankle, yet more flowers, the tattoo is pencil thin. It's set with every color of the rainbow and woven with even thinner vines of green and golden leaves. In a stark contrast of black, the letters "T.R." are the largest feature of the tattoo, each letter about the size of a quarter. Nobody knows the meaning of these, but she's had them before joining the Razors.

Sybille can always be seen wearing vibrant colors, usually skirts and blouses, sometimes alternating with slim, form fitting dresses usually cut in a way to leave her legs unhindered, or pants. She favors the colors Pink and Red, usually neon bright, for her love of pink and to show dedication to her affiliation with the Razors. She flat-out hates wearing gray. She doesn't much favor high heels or shoes of their like, rather preferring a good pair of sneakers or maybe flats if the occasion calls for it, but never anything with a heel more than an inch or two. She also has a love for shin high socks or boots.

Personality

Sybille is a bit strange for her position in the Razors. When she's working, she is serious and resolute in her plans. Failure is punished and incompetence more so. She's built a reputation, and to the outside world she's portrayed as mysterious, somewhat vicious, and a little sadistic, at least by those that have felt her sting. Those who don't know her are often left feeling worried, doubtful, or anxious as she manipulates in subtleties and riddles. In fact, the portrayal of her character and how she actually dresses is such a startling contrast that it seems to unbalance people. Though she's never made any pretense of assuming the image of the character behind her name. In actuality she's silly and eccentric. She's best described as whimsical and excitable, at least when she's not mad, working an angle, or being impatient (which she often is).

Within the Razors she somewhat a beloved mascot mixed with a ruthless manipulator and drug baroness, among dabbling in other things. But mostly just. Definitely drugs. If there were a system of ranking, she'd be up in it, though instead she maintains a level of respect and a following of other members who seek to gain her favor and rise in popularity themselves. Often compared to a spider, she spins webs from the shadow, but has a deadly bite. She's a quick witted strategist with an eccentric personality and at times even stranger tastes in all things. Lacking strength, she'd rather be faster, and more cunning than her predecessors, rivals, or opponents.

Strengths

• Tact: Sybille's rise within the 33^rd Street Razors is largely due to her ability to strategize; Knowing when to move and when to wait, and the details of how for both, a key components to staying alive. She can read between the lines and uses that to her full advantage to help her with her craft.
  
• Networking: Knowledge is power and Sybille is more than just a bit curious. She likes to know the details of things that interest her, which could be a downfall if she pursues something beyond reason or takes needless risks, but she maintains a steady stream of information from people under her care. Most importantly, those she's paid off in the San Marzano Police Department.
  
• Small and Subtle: Much like her, she's not a big and powerful player. Instead she uses subtlety and speed. Physically, this means she is quick, and uses her opponent's mistakes against them. Mentally, she knows that low key manipulations work the best. A bit of misinformation here, a small tip-off there, and a bit of money exchanging hands.
  
• Smoking Trails: Because of her love of speed, Sybille has learned how to fly around corners without hardly slowing down. Expert use of the E-Brake and a well tuned car make her a pretty damn good drifter. A set of skills she often abuses for the hell of it, feeling the adrenaline through her veins as the red and blue lights flash behind her.

Weaknesses

• Haunted: Like many affiliates of gang and related activites, Sybille has suffered some sort of trauma to bring her where she's at today. She's no exception to the rule for dealing with it, and often suffers nightmares from her experiences.
  
• Claustrophobic: Do you know what it's like to spend days and nights folded into a box much to small for you? Sybille does. She spent three years of her life in hell, and the worst part of that was the box. Which she spent a lot of time in. If it's dark and cramped she'll suddenly find it hard to breath and start having flash backs.
  
• Fun Sized: Sybille is a small girl, and there isn't a lot of force or endurance behind her. Despite having speed and stamina, she is a much easier opponent to overpower and manhandle. Additionally, because of her size, and the pretense that size equals strength, she's often disregarded and not taken seriously. Sometimes this works in her favor, but more often that not it just serves to piss her off.
  
• Firecracker: There are two things that piss Sybille off most in this world; Incompetence, and being treated like a child. Regarding the former, failure is acceptable, except when it's not, and when that happens somebody is likely to get punished. Sybille has an unusual taste for punishing her subjects, but effective. As towards the latter, she's likely to explode and make impromptu rash decisions. Sometimes it's the promise of vengeance in the long term, other times it involves a blade.
  
• Whimsical: Like the animal she personifies, Sybille is playful in an almost silly and endearing way. She likes to have fun, and doesn't always see the need to be serious. Other Razors joke that she's likely to make a wise crack with a knife in your ribs. This often makes people perceive her as childlike, which often serves to burn her fuse.
  
• All the Vices: Sybille smokes, she drinks, she curses, she gambles, has a love for coffee, does a few different drugs, and even likes to roll around in the bed sheets. If it's a sin Sybille is probably into it. Sometimes this leaves her exposed and in a difficult position, more so the drinking, gambling, and adultery. Cigarettes will probably get her in the long run.

Likes

• LORD OF THE DANCE: It's been speculated that Sybille only joined the Razors because of their main station at The Grotto. Meaning loves to dance. Rest and Relaxation means dropping a tab or thizzing out on the dance floor. It's usually the only way to relieve her stress and worries, to let the day go and enjoy herself. It's what makes her really feel free.
  
• Ooo Shiny: All that glitters is Sybille's. She enjoys bright, colorful things, especially Neon. She has a collection of vibrant, flashy colors to wear, jewelry that glimmers and moves with the light, and a horde of eye shattering, bright nail polish.
  
• Drop it in sixth: "If the world seems in control, you're not going fast enough." Sybille likes speed, she likes to go fast, and for fun she likes to race. She can go slow if she has too, but she gets antsy, wanting to put the pedal to the floor. There is a betting pool that says she'll be arrested for federal speeding before she dies, but she's never be caught by the cops.
  
• Songbird: Sybille likes to sing, and has been gifted with the voice to do it well. Often times she's humming or has something stuck in her head.
  
• Sadomasochist: This one is pretty self explanatory.

Dislikes

• Sex Sells?: Sybille hates prostitution and forced sexual acts. It's a dark part of her past, and she most often gets into trouble by "liberating" the unfortunates forced into these kinds of situations, and it wouldn't be the first time she's savagely murdered a rapist. She takes them under her wing, protects them while they learn, and set them free into the world, some of which join the Razors.
  
• Plainness: The world is colorful, fantastic, and full of enjoyment. Who would choice to be strictly vanilla when you could be a triple chocolate mint swirl with strawberries. Though not outright disgust, Sybille dislikes uninteresting and boring people. This has led to an even greater disinterest in The Bombers as of recent, with their many of their members choosing plain masks.
  
• Fifty Shades of Ugh: More specifically, the color gray. It's so plain, so neutral, so.. dead. Why choose to look like a funeral mortician when rainbows exist.

Other

• Sybille's Fangs: Sybille carries two short swords she lovingly refers to as her Fangs. They come with a small, light, black sheath which can be set up to over her shoulder or across the small of her back.
  
• Sybille's RTX7 Lightning: This is Sybille's baby: She hauls ass, drifts like a pro, and even comes with neon pink underglow.

Sybille's Fangs

RTX7 Lightning

Relationships

• Sammy - Sammy joined the Razors while Sybille was still on her fast climb within the gang itself, and she quickly saw the potential a friendship with Sammy would bring. At first, it was business as usual: Show her the ropes, let her prove herself, give her small jobs. Sammy quickly turned out to be a key individual on the front lines, inspiring fear and helping Sybille close deals, and an ever better driver. In part, Sammy has helped Sybille climb to where she's at today, and they remain good friends.
  
  Blue - Sybille has known Blue for some time now, and while he may grate on her nerves from time to time, they are somewhat good friends, if not the closest. From the time he was found on the steps, like a stray, and upon finding out his story, Sybille has done her best to show him the ropes and keep him from ending up behind bars again. Despite his tendency to be bullheaded, make rash decisions, and lack of negotiating skills, she usually has a job for him if he wants it, and at times helps feed his vices.

Theme
Sybille's Theme

Little Kit's Character Vault

Takakiko "Princess" Moneaux

Prisoner Data Form

Takakiko "Princess" Moneaux

"What do you mean I'm being arrested?!... Oh, that, really? But it was just ooonnee little bomb.."

Photograph

Aliases: Princess Nitro

Prisoner ID Number: 2313

Species: Nohvan

Gender: Female

Age: 32 (Young Adult)

Former Faction: 💥Maximum Octane💥

Physical Description:

Description Form

Height: 5'6, 170cm

Weight: 122lb, 55kg

Eye Description: Icy blue set in a sea of dark gray, almost black.

Hair Description: Seafoam-green, feels sort of silky.

Skin Description: Pink, with a texture akin to silicone; Smooth, Squishy, Soft, and feels slightly slippery.

Scars, Birthmarks, or other Identifying Traits:

• Circuitry tattooed around her eye, slightly darker than her skin color.
• Her hand has Stylized Circuitry ending just below her elbow, which is also slightly darker than her skin color.
• Dots and Numbers run up her spine from the base or her neck to the small of her back and are colored pitch black.
• Very pale scars on just above her temples where her Antennae were removed as a child.
• Various small, pale scars scattered about her person, the most noticeable are:
  
  
  • A large jagged scar on her hip where she was sliced clean through by shrapnel, appears recent.
  • Two parallel scars on her left shin... also.. from shrapnel, partially faded but not by much.
  • A multitude of tiny scars crisscrossing her hands and forearms..also from.. you know she should really stop blowing shit up.
  • Her right index and middle finger are mechanical, the nails of which can become 2cm blades.
  • She has two screws in her right foot, two rods in her right shin, and another screw in her right hip.

Description of Clothing/Armor: Typically Takakiko can be found wearing her form fitting skin suit, which fits beneath her Armor, complete with a pair of goggles that filter light, allowing her to function during day light hours. In her downtime she's a fan of loose shirts, the kind that are a few inches short of a dress, boy shorts, and toe-socks, most of which are all done in bright colors with abstract patterns, or silly icons and images.

Bionic Limbs/Synthetic Organs/Robotic Augmentations: N/A

Weapons of Choice:

• Law Breaker: Taka's sidearm, it shoots high velocity bullets and holds eight rounds. It's a slow shot however, and works better at punching through armor.
  
  
  • "Are Law ready for this?!"
• Honey Badger: Her main weapon, Taka usually uses this with its iron sights (optional reflex sights, or 2x Medium Range Scope). She also uses a foregrip and fancies the standard mags (16 shell capacity). Outside close quarters combat, she uses slug rounds in conjunction with her other sights.
  • "Honey Badger don't give a shit!"
• Rolly Poley Grenades: Takakiko's own personal invention, The Rolly Poley Grenades come in a wide variatey of flavors. They have the ability to be magnetically attached to metal surfaces and have a timed detonation feature up to 30 seconds. They vary between high explosive, electro-magnetic pulse, smoke, flash concussive, and slag. The latter is primarily for melting armor and metal. They are also colored respectively; HE is red, EMP is blue, Smoke is Gray, Flash Concussive is Yellow, and Slag is Orange. She usually carries a few HE and FC on her belt, with backups in her pack.
  • "Bada-bing Bada-boom, Miss World-wide when I walk in the room!"
• Pow-Pow Charges: Yet another of her design, these are the most powerful item in her arsenal. A thermite-incendiary explosive charge, it has the power to take down just about anything but the most protected targets. The blast it emits creates an extremely high temperature inferno. She used three of these to take down the Sigma Space Station. The draw-back is they take a good minute to setup, it can't be transported ready to go because of it's highly volatile nature. If she's rushed, she can set it up in about fifteen minutes.
  • "Mother of god.. it's.. it's so beautiful.."
• Alloy Reinforced Backpack: Not exactly a weapon, but it another of her invention. An alloy reinforced backpack resistant to exterior trauma such as bullets and explosions, a faraday cage woven with alloy fibers disrupts electricity protecting her electronics, it's waterproof, and best of all; It's hella stylish.
  • "Man I look fricking awesome."

Charges/Sentences:
List of Charges as recognized by the Official Galactic Court

• Aiding and Abetting: Takakiko has been an accessory to a multitude of crimes, most of which reflect her other charges.
• Assault and Battery: Provoked physical altercations with civilians, officials, and law enforcement officials.
  • Aggravated Assault and Battery: Unprovoked attacks on civilians, officials, and law enforcement officers.
• Drug Trafficking and Distribution: Moving excessive quantaties of illegal drugs including banned genetic enhancements, dangerous mind altering drugs, and other narcotics with the intent to sell.
  • Posession: Quantities of illegal drugs found on her person.
• Trespassing: Entering personal homes, businesses, and otherwise restricted areas unlawfuly.
  • Theft: The removal of items or information from these properties.
• Arson: The burning of establishments, landmarks, vehicles, and of personal or government property.
• Bribery: An attempt to assuage her charges using lollipops and other promises of "treats".
• Conspiracy: Prior knowledge and planning of actions with the intent to commit a crime or break the law.
• Disorderly Conduct: Excessive public intoxication.
  • Public Indecency: Urinating in public, Partial or full nudity within view of the public.
  • Disturbing the Peace: Excessive Yelling and Threatening of other persons, fighting, and loud music.
  • Domestic Violence: Reports of Physical Altercations with romantic partners.
• D.U.I Driving under the influence on resulting in public endangerment.
• Human Trafficking: The unlawful captureand detainment of any persons with intent to sell them.
• Shoplifting: The removal of items from a business during operating hours without intent to purchase.
• Vandalism: Marking, Altering, or destruction of person, public, or private property, objects, or other belongings.
• Dangerous Weapons: Possession, Creation, Distribution, and Use of dangerous weapons unlawfully with intent to sell, cause harm, or vandalize properties or persons, most notably explosives.
• Homicide: Over a thousand estimated counts of manslaughter and murder of the first, second, and third degrees.
• Grand Theft Auto: The unlawful hijacking of personal, private, and restricted vehicles. One count of military grade theft of a prototype aerial combat plane with space and FTL capabilities. Estimated damages from this incident are in the thousands of millions.
  
  Verdict: Sentenced to death by electrocution.

Skills:

• "PewPewPew!": Takakiko is an above average shot due to a life thats put her in more than one firefight, though she's not particularly skilled in firearms.
• "VroomVroom!": She likes to run, skip, and jump, she likes to drive fast, and she loves being in the cockpit of fancy birds.
• "Kaboooom!": Taka is naturally talented in the use and creation of explosives. It's one of her favorite hobbies, blowing shit up-that is.
• "He laughed at me... So I blew him up.": The moral of this is actually that itself: Moral Ambiguity. To Taka, sometimes right is wrong and wrong isn't always right. Wait. Sometimes right isn't wrong and wrong is- Oh fuck it. She doesn't always see things the way others do.
• "DISTRACTION!": With about zero finesse, cunning, or thought at all Taka is pretty handy at creating a distraction. Not the smooth talking, ankle showing, flirty kind of distraction. More of the "something just fucking blew up in the distance" kind of distraction.
• "Alright but what if I told you..." She has this.. way with words that makes it incredibly hard to obtain information from her when she doesn't want to tell you. Sometimes it involves a lot of whimsical nonsense and misdirection.
• "What's this do?": Something between a tinkerer and a mechanic, Taka can take apart a remote control and put it back together just to see how it works... but it may also control your lights and shower functions as well. She's better at fiddling with weapons, especially things that explode, though you might explode. Your cat might also explode. She's also proficient vehicular maintenance and repair.
• "Hardcore Parkour!" Making up for what she lacks in other departments, she's not totally helpless as she has some speed to her. She's quick and agile, and where she may not have much power behind her punches, she's a cut and dodge kind of fighter. In another life she might have made it as a gymnast.
• "I snooann rrauo Na'hrroa" Taka is a fluent speaker of her native tongue.

Flaws:

• "None I'm a fricking princess!": That's a god damned lie. She has a somewhat warped perception. She's a princess, your dog is a steed, and you- you fine person are a pleb. Sometimes she doesn't understand things, or sees them quite differently, on top of having a skewed moral compass.
• "I'm a little screwy": Taka has a somewhat childlike nature about her. Somewhere along the line she broke, and her personality seems to constantly fluctuate between being an adult and being stuck in her childhood, creating an... interesting line in the middle, to say the least. This is a part of her flawed moral views, and has a tendency to make people underestimate her. The innocence associated with this means she's loves the wrong things, including people, for the wrong reasons, trusts things for odd reasons, and has a minimal sense of personal safety. For example: She loves candy because of her sweet-tooth, but especially because "It looks like me!."
• "Meltdown! Meltdown!": Taka has PTSD, among other trauma, from her early life. She struggles with nightmares, seems to constantly be moving her hands, and will literally try to fight you if she becomes too angry. She's also terrified of being trapped in confined spaces.
• "I'm meeellltttiinggg!": Being a Nohvan, her eyes are sensitive to light. She can barely see in daylight, and relies on a pair of light filtering goggles to function during daytime hours. Bright flashes can blind, stun, and disorient her. Constant exposure to bright light can permanently damage her eyes.
• "Dude I'm like.. a fish": Taka doesn't have much physical prowess. She's on the weaker side, lacking strength and endurance. She's not exactly clever, she's not very witty, and her smarts really only lie in weapons, vehicles, and things that go boom.
• "You talking to me? Huh? Punk?!": Her reputation as 'Princess Nitro' proceeds her, and some people are still trying to claim the bounties on her head, even after her incarceration.

Personality:

Psyche Evaluation of Prisoner 2313

^{Credits for idea go to [@R13GN]}

Session #01 - Doctor Meinar

Doctor Meinar: "Hello, please state your name for the record."
Takakiko: "You may call me princess, servant."
Doctor Meinar: "Do you know why you are here?"
Takakiko: "The evil queen know's I'm prettier than her, doesn't she?"

^{Doctor's Note: Subject appears to have a warped perception of reality}

...
Doctor Meiner: "Alright, Taka-"
Takakiko: "Princess"
Doctor Meiner: "Taka-"
Takakiko: "Princess!!"
Doctor Meiner: "I cannot call you that Taka-"
Takakiko: "PRINCESS, DON'T MAKE ME FIGHT YOU OLD LADY."

^{Doctor's Note: Subject suffers from emotional instability}

^{[The door can be heard as Doctor Meiner leaves the room.]}
Takakiko: [Begins Humming and tapping her feet.]
^{[A minute passes]}
Takakiko: [Begins laughing wildly]
Takakiko: "I just realized your name is Doctor Meaner! Hahaha, Doc! ... Doc?"
^{[The door can be heard as Doctor Meiner reenters the room.]}
Doctor Meiner: "Alright.. uh... Princess, we're going to look at some pictures okay?"
Takakiko: "Hurray!"
Doctor Meiner: "Tell me, what do you see in this picture?
Takakiko: "Mmmmnn.. A mushroom crab."
Doctor Meiner: "...And this one?"
Takakiko: "Definately like, a nuclear cloud.. ya'know, from an explosion?"
Doctor Meiner: "Right, and how about this one?"
Takakiko: "Hmm...Two fancy poodles, you know the kind the humans breed, right, so they're dancing and totally making out, oh and they have big butts."

Doctor's Note: Subject seems to have a child-like mentality, perhaps-

Takakiko: "Watcha writing Doc?"
Doctor Meiner: "Er, Ah! How did you get out of those?!"
Takakiko: [Mumbling]"Subject has.. child-like mentality... are you fucking with me Doc?"
Doctor Meiner: "Takakiko you're not supposed to see this, sit back do-"
Takakiko: "I told you I'm a frickin princess!"

Doctor's Note: Subject appears to become hostile when associated with-

Takakiko: "I don't think I like you writing about me Doc!"
Doctor Meiner: "Taka-"
Takakiko: [Yelling]"PRINCESS!"
Doctor Meiner: "Gah! What are you doing?! Take your hands off of me!! Guards.. GUARDS!"
Guard Roberts: "PRISONER, REMOVE YOURSELF FROM DOCTOR MEINER!"
Takakiko: [Crying and Yelling]"SHE'S SO MEAN!"
Sergeant Thoue: "Taze-her-taze-her-taze-her!"
Doctor Meiner: "OH GOD SHE'S EATING MY EAR"
Takakiko: [Unintelligible Growls]
Guard Roberts: "GET OFF OF HER.. OW FUCK MY FINGERS FUCKING CHRIST"
Takakiko: [Unintelligible Growls]
Doctor Meiner: [Groaning Softly]
Sergeant Thoue: "I've got her!"
Guard Yimoen: "Take her down!"
Guard Johnason: "Grab her arms!"

Transcript End

Personal Biography:

Final reports on the affairs of Takakiko Moneaux

Born on her home world, as all Nohvan's, Takakiko was the sibling of a twin sister. Both of them had a rare form of albinism of the Nohvan people, coloring their skin pink. They arrived home together, where a full week of celebration ensued. Upon further questioning, the Nohvan colony acknowledged that the two girls admitted to being together from the beginning, even sharing the same host in their first two stages of life. This left the second girl, who was originally Takakiko, severely underdeveloped. The Takakiko we know now, was originally named Onimani. The two girls seemed inseparable, and shared some sort of psychic link with each other. It seemed they were able to sense each other's presence, from distances up to three-hundred yards, and had some sort of basic communication through this. Lab tests are unable to fully discern why this happened, or how they were able to share the same host; both of these feats should have been impossible.

At the age of nine, the girl's were deprived of a normal life. During a settlement raid from a group known as Maximum Octane, a notorious band of slavers and pirates, the two girls turned up missing. Reports following the activities of the Maximum Octane group show multiple sightings of the girls with them. Hunting down the last remaining members of the know disbanded group has revealed some disturbing things. I won't go into full detail, but the girl's were subject to a hard life from then on out. Takakiko, the original, was unable to be sold on the market, and Onimani refused to leave her sister's side, and the group found trouble selling her too as she became increasingly wild when parted from Taka.

So, the group held on to them, figuring they at least had two prospective members. So began the training. Taka, while underdeveloped, had an impressive intellect for a select few things, if you see the pattern here I'm sure you could guess them. Vehicles, Weapons, and Explosives. She hated being treated like a child, or a cripple because of the poor condition of her body. Her sister, fearing separation again, did her best to keep up with the things Taka was good at. They even went as far as to have Onimani try to pass off Taka's inventions as her own, but their skill levels varied widely. So was the contract set, Takakiko could work for the group, and in turn they would hold on to her sister. The plan was for Taka to eventually buy their freedom, which was prevented by the collar fitted around their necks; the kind that explode. It was years before they would attempt an escape.

However, between their wages and the expenses associated with their lifestyles, and lines of work, their lives would nearly be over, if they even survived that long. Onimani began picking up more dangerous jobs, as it had been discovered she was a capable pilot in training. Somewhere around the age of fourteen, Taka finally decided she'd had enough and planned to run away. Confident she could get the collar off, after secret study sessions, she set a plan in motion. Onimani acquired a set of keys and a few provisions, and Taka hid two signal jamming chips designed to interfere with the proximity signal.

The plan went flawlessly, as Onimani managed to take down two guards, and paralyze a third to hijack a ship that had been under maintenance for for a recolor and tag change. The unmarked ship blasted its way free of the hangar bay, ultimately resulting in the death's of the three unconscious guards, and another four who had arrived on see by jettisoning them into the vacuum of space. The FTL drives were nearly ready for a jump when they reached the edge of the proximity boundary. Taka's collar was beeping. When Octane Enforcers arrived on the scene, they found the wreckage of what had been Taka cradled in Onimani's arms. We believe this is when Onimani became Takakiko.

She spent the rest of her free life with the group as Takakiko. Her mental state rapidly deteriorated into her now childish nature, perhaps in association with assuming her sister's persona, back when they were free and happy. Over time she picked up the skills that her sister had been good at, some members even speculate that the new Takakiko surpassed the old in the tinkering department, but each interviewee said she just replied with "Because she never had the chance." She also became an ace pilot, and due to the occasional volatile nature of her creations, became the team's demolitions expert. Most of her scars come from explosives that didn't work quite as she had intended, fortunately she's had all the shrapnel removed from her body.

Her recent arrest was a series of events. We had been working with snitches within the Maximum Octane group who passed along information of another terror level attack. As you can see in the image I've provided in this dossier, we were unable to stop them. Takakiko rigged Sigma Station's power converter unit, fuel exchange, and a vegetable shop. We don't know the significance of the later, but the entire station went down in flames. However, a bug on their ship gained us the Intel of their base of operations. It would be another three weeks before we launched a large scale operation as infighting in the group escalated.

While many members escaped, Maximum Octane has officially been declared disbanded. We found Takakiko locked naked into a storage chest. She was incoherent, probably in shock. Medical personnel had difficulty removing her, as the container was not large and she had quite literally been folded in half to fit in it. She had to attend her court hearing as a video monitor as she was still scheduled for months of physical and mental rehabilitation. It was also discovered that she had suffered a broken leg and hip on the right side of her body, which obviously healed improperly inside that box.

Final reports show she's in excellent physical health, but her mind is very unstable.

Personal Belongings: Typically some sort of candy, a package of concentrated salt licks, cigarettes, a gold plated flip lighter with the insignia for the Maximum Octane group, A necklace holding a polished and detailed blackbird. Usually some items to tinker with and some small tools: Soldering Pen, Screw-drivers, tweezers, wire cutters, tape, and some glue applicators.
Other: N/A

Theme song:In Loving Memory of Takakiko Moneaux

The Nohvan's of Noviah

The Nohvan

Home Planet: Noviah

Brief Summary of their Home Planet: The planet much resembles earth, except it is about 4.0x larger and is pretty much a thick jungle all the way around, with scattered mountain ranges, a handful of plateaus, and few plains. Water is plentiful, covering about 61% percent of the planet and creating an abundance of water channels such as rivers, lakes, and springs. However, it's purely saltwater, Nohvan's can't drink pure freshwater. Some villages exist on land, typically high up or set in cave systems. However, the world is extremely dangerous and even the plants want to kill you, so the Nohvan's have taken to the oceans, building great floating biospheres and underwater cities.

Most of the danger lies on the mainland, most. The most famous of these deadly predators is the Canopy Wyrm, A long snake like creature that travels through the tops of the thick jungle trees and averages in sizes that could easily swallow a normal man without trouble. Even when fighting them one has to be careful, if it's not the long toothed mandibles it may be that fact that it bleeds an acidic compound. Another of the planet's infamous deadly beasts are actually a somewhat semi-intelligent Gharou. With fundamental weapons and tools, this species has a pack mentality, and live in orbital houses woven from vines and such, set against thick tree trunks and connected by elevated bridges. They are also extremely territorial, and will pursue trespassers across their entire territory. They are quick, and very numerable, but not very smart nor particularly strong.

Turning towards the waters, the situation tends to be a bit safer, if you can handle the salt. The most danger inland is from small river serpents, most of which are of course, poisonous. The most notable aquatic danger lies in the ocean, following the theme of enormous, dangerous serpents brings us to the Dhumandi, the water variant and cousin of the Canopy Snake. Fortunately they avoid brightly lit areas, unfortunately masses of surface water algae allow the Dhumandi higher depths of hunting. They don't bother the cities, or most aquatic vehicles, really diver's without a few extremely bright lights are in danger. The creature has very poor eyes which are sensitive to light, but also has an incredibly tough skin.

Empires This Race Belongs To: It is the only race in its empire

Member of the Galactic Federation?: Yes, they joined later as pirates became a serious threat to Noviah.

Number of Colonies: Seven

General Appearance: Nohvan's typically range from 5'5 to 6'1, anything above or below those numbers doesn't fit the average. As a people they are typically lithe, with toned and compact muscles when present, almost not noticeable due to the nature of their skin which closely mimics Silicon. It's soft, slightly slippery, and has about the same durability as a Human's. Nohvan's are typically brightly colored, females tending to be more along the more vibrant colors such as violet, teal, and so forth, whereas males tend to have deeper hues. Silver and White are androgynous colors, and are uncommon. Pure Red and Pink Nohvan's are rare. Nohvan's tend to be born with colors relating to their environment, a genetic adaptation to help them blend in. If all else fails they do have a pair of hollow fangs which inject a fast acting paralytic poison.

Nohvan's have webbed fingers and toes, wide eyes, and pointed ears that poke out of brightly colored hair, which feels soft and almost silky. Due to the day and night cycles, their eyes have adapted to better see in low-light conditions, especially in the underwater cities, and the biospheres which are kept very dim. The iris almost looks like a cataract with color, and that's not far off. In normal daylight vision is very blurry for Nohvans, anything brighter can stun and cause pain, extreme conditions can result in trauma to the eyes leading to blindness.

Average Life Span: Approximately 160 Earth Years, Average age of death is roughly 140 years.

Galactic Rarity: Very Uncommon

Primary Governmental Structure: The Nohvan have a society based on Meritocracy, putting those with the best skills and talents in powers of position. A Nohvan child could be a governor as long as he passed the test of merits, which is an incredibly extensive test, which also takes into account personal accomplishments and your impact on society. Few children achieve strong positions, but it has happened. At anytime a council member can be challenge, pitting talent against talent, and skill against skill. The challenged has the right to pick the details of challenge, whether it be combat, a game, or something more creative. Nobody is ever forced into a position of government, and often those with great merit but only hold the title of commoner are still respected and have their opinions thoroughly discussed.

Brief Description of Culture: Nohvan's revolve around Independence, but also Unity. You are only as good are your merit, and your merit is only as good as its impact on society. It's a solid principle based on what one can do for others, rather than themselves. Upon reaching maturity, Nohvan's are expected to set forth and seek a life for themselves, the farther away from their friends and family, the farther from their comfort zone, the more respect they earn, though visits are not unheard off. Advancing the benefit of society is the ultimate goal, which is why they rely on the Galactic Federation for their military needs. Noviah outputs an impressive amount of scientific research.

Special Traits/Racial Abilities:

• Nohvan's have Excellent Night-vision, but quite sensitive to light.
• Nohvan's are great swimmers, and can breath underwater.
• Nohvan's silicon like skin reduces contact velocity, offering a slight resistance to physical impacts.
• Nohvan's enjoy sickening amounts of sugar and salt.
• Nohvan's have two hollow fangs, equipped with a fast acting paralytic poison.

Race Age: 750,000 Years

Brief History of the Race: The Nohvan's haven't been a part of the Galactic Federation long, but they'd been traveling in space for a time yet. Once the discovery of the FTL drives Federation forces eventually found Noviah and began negotiations, trades, and integration. Noviah, like most of their other colonies, lie close to the outskirts of known space, making them very remote. They often operate beneath the public eye, and have few members in positions of power within the Federation, but do post some of the best new technologies and rapid advancement.

Major Technological Innovations/Inventions: A lot of Nohvan research centers around quality of life, how to live in harsh habitats and defend against monstrous, or even tiny and dangerous creatures. However, their most notable area of expertise lies in genetic manipulation. Despite being unable to artificially incubate their own children and fixing their terribly low birthrates. The Nohvan's never struggled with disease, and have increased their own lifespans over the years. This knowledge has spread through federation space, allowing parents to choose desirable traits in their children. Even Nohvan's can inject a cell cluster into their incubating females to be absorbed by their egg sacs.

Expanded Cultural Overview:Nohvan's have what you would call low birth rates, despite laying hundreds of eggs, they hardly ever survive the dangerous waters of their planet. Unable to artificially incubate their offspring, it's become something of a tradition to just, continue the cycle as it always has been. Sure, they could eliminate oceanic dangers, over time, but that would destroy everything that they've founded their lives on.

Death is about the only time a Nohvan will see their entire family at one time. It's a heavily important matter that they see their kin into the water, where they will sink, and surface in the afterlife. The bodies are wrapped in large swathes of seaweed and cocooned in a hardened, clear oil made from fish and algae. They sink to the bottom of the ocean where their body nourishes bottom feeders, the beginning of the food chain, for years.

Birth on the other hand, is less eventful. The Female Nohvan can become pregnant from either sex and incubate hundreds of eggs, but they must be deposited in the ocean of their home world, attempts at artificial incubation have always failed, it's still a huge topic of research for them. And as it is with all sea life, not all of them make it. The eggs hatch hours after being deposited into leech like tadpoles, where they will seek out a source of food and latch onto it for the next couple of months. This leech matures into parasite, which then burrows into its host, if two different parasite try to enter the same host they will fight, and likely kill each other. From here the parasite incubates in the creature's reproductive organs, sending fine filaments through its hosts body which help in preserving the parasitic baby. From here the process becomes closer to human birth, except after the second incubation period, about twelve months, the Nohvan Child must find a way out of the creature, through any means possible. Finally, a year later, the child must find its way back to its mother, using the large nerve on the top of it's head like an antennae.

Should a child ever make it's way home, the odds of that being about One out of the hundreds, the whole day stops immediately and an enormous celebration is spontaneously thrown together. The celebration builds steam until a full blown wild party is rampaging through the streets. Typical parties can last anywhere from an entire day, to three or four days later. At the end of the party, the Nohvan's gather for the ceremonial cutting of the Antennae, signifying the child's independence of its mother. A Nohvan child actually has many mother's, being cared for and taught by multitudes of close friends or lovers of the mother. Upon their tenth naming day, the child may get a job, and start their life, in fact, it's expected.

There are really only a few ways to commit a crime on Noviah; Excessive Abuse against children (Sometimes they need a slap), defilement of the dead, and murder outside mutual combat. However, laws protecting against unwanted sexual advances, assault, thievery, or things like social securing services like a police force, or fire fighting force, don't exist. Nohvan's are expected to be strong enough to protect themselves and what they own, and to come together in times of need. Taking what you want is meritable, as life itself is selfish, as long as the end goal is the benefit of society and advancement. A Nohvan child has exclusive protection until their twentieth naming day, where the celebration of maturity involves a lot of attempts to test how well the Nohvan can protect themselves and what they've acquired.

Nohvan criminals, as rare as they are, are exiled from Nohvan colony worlds. Which, is actually honorable, as life is precious and independence is respected. Others see it as a death sentence. A lot of crime's are determined in a public court on a case-by-case system. Many Nohvan's choose to be exiled in the domains of humanity, due to their close resemblances.

Expanded History: Nohvan's began as a series of struggling tribes, living in all manners of homes and locations. It was the verge of extinction that drove them together, forming what is now the sacred ruins of Hopapi, an ancient city. Here the Nohvan's managed to survive, slowly, and defend themselves. There weren't many animals to domesticate, but the creation of tools were plentiful. Myths and Legends centered around great heroes who saved others, often depicted wrestling canopy snakes single-handedly or holding up a massive boulder from crushing their comrades and other impossible feats.

As the years progressed Nohvan's became apt farmer's, without domesticated animal they lived on a diet rich in roots, vegetables, fruits, and other foliage. Hunting was a hard, and extremely honorable task, the root cause of many other legends and heroes.With the Progression from poorly crafted spears, to iron rods, and further into guns, fire weaponry, and bio-organic electricity, The Nohvan's found each stage of technology advancement increasing their rates of survival, and their quality of life.

The lands were ever becoming more hostile and dangerous, and the Nohvan's eventually found ways to move out into the oceans. It began with floating wooden villages on the coasts, but that left them prone to both predators and nature, often large swells would rip apart their homes. Once the discovery of metallurgy and major processing hit, it was easier to stake a little further out using thick iron posts to anchor their cities in place, durable, but still not immune to nature. Now, the Nohvan's have large floating cities which drift along the oceans, propelled by massive engines when need be. In the event of an emergency like a tsunami, these floating biospheres and cities can use sonic wave generators to create a second tsunami, carefully measured in strength, to collie with another at a safe distance from the city. The resulting forces dispel the forces driving the original tsunami, and drive the excess water away from the city with a much gentler force.

They've also taken to living along the ocean floor, and smaller communities seeking a more traditional and natural lifestyle live in cave systems or other naturally defensible locations inland. Once the Nohvan's began breaking away and creating multiple settlements, strife hit. The Nohvan's have been through many wars, which quickly depleted their numbers. It was the use of a genetically modified canopy snake that finally made them realize they were about to erase themselves from their planet. The Dhumandi was a weapon of war, and was never supposed to populate. It is the main reason that Nohvan's have such low birth survival rates. The introduction of the Dhumandi into the ecosystem threw the balance off, and as the creatures died their genetically engineer forms were devoured by other sea life. This is why Nohvan children hardly ever survive.

Other:

• Relative Nohvan Ages in Reference to the Human Life Cycle
  
  
  • 0 - 3 Months: Egg Incubation Period
  • 4 - 5 Months: Leech Larvae Stage
  • 6 Months - 1.5 Years: Parasitic Embryo Stage
  • 1.5 - 3 Years: Early Childhood
  • 4 - 7 Years: Childhood
  • 8 - 10 Years: Late Childhood
  • 11 - 14 Years: Pre-Adolescence
  • 15 - 19 Years: Adolescence
  • 20 - 24 Years: Late Adolescence
  • 25 - 49 Years: Young Adulthood
  • 50 - 74 Years: Midlife Adulthood
  • 75 - 99 Years: Mature Adulthood
  • 100 - 139 Years: Elderly Adulthood
  • 140 - 160 Years: Waiting for Death
• Nohvan's can have memories as far back from the day they first hatched

Racial Notes:

• Nohvans are pretty much named whatever strikes the parent's fancy.
• Nohvan mothers usually stay on the home planet after laying a clutch for around thirteen months waiting for their child.
• They do not worship god or goddesses, but rather heroes, legends, and myth who seem to have done legendary deeds.
• Nohvan children are taught to speak both their own language, and more recently a more common, galactic dialect. The language is smooth, and sounds slightly melodic.

Nohvan Language Mixer Use setting "Melodic 3".

Little Kit's Character Vault

The Cherry Blossom Killer

Prisoner Data Form

Caedence "Nano" Senichi

Artistic Rendering of Caedence

Aliases: Catie, Cadie / Nano, The Cherry Blossom Killer

Prisoner ID Number: 3254

Species: Human

Gender: Female

Age: 26

Former Faction: The Senichi Family

Physical Description:

Description Form

Height: 5'8

Weight: 125lbs, 56.6kg

Eye Description: Teal / Violet

Hair Description: Dark Violet

Skin Description: Light, Fair

Scars, Birthmarks, or other Identifying Traits:

• A light brownish spot that kind of looks like a potato if you squint hard, just above her left hip bone.
• Eye color changes from Teal and Violet depending on her current personality.
• Dragon Trinity Tattoo

  Centered on her right bicep,
  just below the curve of her shoulder

  
  
• Watercolor Yin-Yang Tattoo

  Located on her upper sternum,
  just above the 'V' of her breasts

  
• Smooth Stoke Lotus Flowers

  Located on the back of her upper right shoulder,
  transitioning diagonally towards her left side,
  extending down along the hip, buttock, and thigh,
  and ending just above her knee

  
• Colorful Peacock

  Begins just above her right knee,
  traveling up the side of her body,
  and ending just below her breasts

  

Facial description: Fair, clear skin that's smooth and pale in color. Probably could use a tan, or several.

Description of Clothing/Armor:
Caedence enjoys modest clothing that reflects her heritage. Often times this is through brightly colored blouses with billowing sleeves and a traditional waist sash, paired with a skirt of modest length, or a full rendition of an ancient Kimono. Otherwise, she may choose to wear more hip, urban clothing, like abstract shirts and jeans. She tends to keep a sense of modesty, but tries to remain somewhat fashionable at the same time, as long as she can remain mostly covered. Unfortunately, she cannot keep her hair long as she would like, as Nano keeps cutting it to stay around shoulder length.

Nano prefers the more seductive route, wearing revealing clothes or those that accent her curvaceous curves. Top with deep necks, expose her stomach, bear her arms, or a combination of all paired with tight pants, or skirts that may be a tad too short. However, she's no good in heels, call it hereditary, and may choose between pointed flats, something with open toes, or even botos that vary from ankle cropped to shin high. Much to Caedence's displeasure, Nano likes her hair kept at a medium, shoulder length. Also to her other half's great, great discomfort, Nano has tattoos and likes to show them off.

Nano's Armor consists of a thin, environmental suit which regulates body temperature, and offers protection against the natural elements. The outer layer of armor is composition of flexible, grafium steel threading provided mobility over defense, and only offers moderate protection against projectiles, optical weapons, and blunt force trauma. Her mask has built in readings that monitor her battery levels, including recharge timers, and will alert her to dangerous symptoms such as low vitamin and mineral levels, compromised suit integrity, nanite shutdown, and so forth. With her armor she wears a traditional, scarf like wrapping around her head and neck called a Shoueffa, "The Veil of War". Traditionally, veiling yourself in battle states your intent to kill, whereas wearing it relaxed around the neck is supposed to convey a more passive, non-lethal nature.

She also has a vambrace computer, which offerings the same monitoring capabilities as her helmet, with the addition of being able to manually activate her nanite given powers. However, in combat situations she may not always have time to use this method of activation, and thus has set parameters for voice commands.

Bionic Limbs/Synthetic Organs/Robotic Augmentations:

• Neural-Thread Network: Woven throughout her body along predefined pathways is an intricate system of cybernetic threading, allowing her to remain impervious to her nanites.
• Nanites: A completely self sufficient, mechanical ecosystem has been created within Caedence's body. Extremely advanced, microscopic machines that are the basis of her combat abilities.

Weapons of Choice:

• Epilogue: Nano's only weapon, other than her hands, the name of which is derived from the ideal that death is the final chapter of your life. The sword itself is made from a unique metal, referred to as Grafium Steel, a metal that is incredibly durable yet is able to hold an exquisitely sharp edge. However, the true function of this place is the Light Particle Sheathe it can create, which takes the form of a glowing, neon teal aura around the blade. It may look like magic, but it's actually derived from the energy her nanites utalize. Raw energy is injected into the blade, which runs on a self sustaining looping cycle. This enhances her blade to the point where she can puncture, and cut through materials no normal sword could. Including a wide variety of hard metals, and armoring techniques. The downside being she cannot adjust the amount of power the blade receives, meaning she's unable enhance the blade's power any further. Despite that, this sophisticated weapon gives a literal edge over other swordsmen.
• Qui Tsu Fei: Not technically a weapon in on itself, Qui Tsu Fei is a martial arts style developed by the Senichi line, based around their heritage and culture which includes many ancient Asian themes and its teachings are virtually unknown to the outside world. This martial practice focuses primarily around non-lethal methods of defensive-offense. To break it down further, the techniques involved revolve around a few core themes of combat; Prediction, Redirection, Speed, and Countering. The user focuses on the speed and precision of their strikes, rather than raw strength, and performs this technique by reading their opponent, redirecting their attacks, and countering with calculated movements which use the opponents own strength and momentum against them; Typically in an attempt to the combatant out by deflecting, and redirecting their force while using minimal effort to do so. However, if confident, the user of Qui Tsu Fei can perform incapacitating strikes when the moment is opportune.
  • Fei Tsu Ken: This is the highest level art among the Senichi Discipline, a master level technique that is taught only to the most proficient, advanced members of the family. Incompetent use of the technique often leaves the user in a fight they cannot win, and is often times a reason of death among aspiring martial arts students. The reason being is that Fei Tsu Ken is meant to teach the disciple to encompass multi-body combat in unison with the Qui Tsu Fei style. This is achieved around the idea that the user must maintain a sphere of influence within the length of their arm, or their weapons reach. This idea also broadens the technique of it's parent style, formatting the single target methods of prediction and reaction to include more than a single body. Along with the teachings of this discipline, there is also a regiment of mediation and awareness training, to teach the body to recognize the subtle nuances that your senses can pick up in an attempt to achieve a state of hyper awareness. This style also teaches the moral boundary of non-lethal fighting.
• Kinetic Particle Barrier: Because she is in fact more often than not bringing a knife to a gun fight, Nano needs time to close distance. The Particle Barrier is a light shield, as her intertwined cybernetics cannot sustain a heavy system. What this does is create a sort of over-shield that hardens upon projectile impact. Specifically meaning that when impact is sustained, the shield with harden instantaneously to deflect the projectiles, meaning it can stop a single round, or a rapid burst for approximately a full second. Fortunately, this shielding has two layers, being she could virtually be shot twice before it goes down. The shields have a recharge time of approximately two minutes, and do not share power with her Akinetophic field, or particle blade. Explosives will immediately knock out both layers, though she is protected from shrapnel and debris for the hardening duration. This shield does not alter the effect of elements, such as fire or heat, or the cold.
• Akinetophic Field: The main reason she's a viable swordsman in a firefight is her ability to project what's referred to as an Akinetophic Field, roughly translating to "Without movement or sight." This field performs three key functionalities, neither of which effect Nano herself. The first is that the nanites cause temporary Akinetopsia to anyone caught within the field, a disorder where the individual will process motion as a series of still images rather than continual motion. However, this would only appear to make movement skip, or jump, like a film reel with missing frames. The second ability is to affect individuals within the radius of influence with a form of paralysis, slowing muscular signals to such a rate that the body appears to be moving in substantial slow-motion. The final ability of this technique is that the nanites exponentially slow the rate of molecular movement for non-biological organic matter, such as metal, fabric, and so forth.
  
  Effectively this appears to stop the progression of moving particles, most notably bullets or optical weapons such as laser. Adding all of these complicated procedures together effectively makes it appear as if Nano can stop time. Because of her Neural-Thread Network, she is immune to the paralyzing effects, the temporary Akinetopsia, and the molecular slow to items she is holding when the field is activated. The field cannot be cast, but rather projects around her in a full, spherical radius of about 20 yards, and expands nearly instantaneously. This field can be sustained for a maximum of twenty seconds. The way that this works is that, at 100% Battery capacity, each seconds takes 5%, which doesn't allow her much time for hesitation. Additionally, this ability has a twenty minute cool down.
• Nano can use voice activation for her two abilities:
  
  
  • "Yamate", meaning "Stop", activates her Akinetophic Field.
  • "Hakiri", meaning "Light", activates her Light Particle Sheathe.

Charges/Sentences:

• Homicide: Premeditated Murder of the first degree, exact figures are unknown.
  
  
  • Manslaughter: Involuntary third degree, and voluntary second degree manslaughter, precise statistics unknown.
• Trespassing: Unlawful breaking and entering.
  
  
  • Possession: Concealing a deadly weapon, especially with lethal intent, in restricted areas.
• Assault: Including aggravated assault, and battery, detailed counts unavailable.

Skills:

• Death Rides Wind: The technical name behind her swordsmanship, the term is a reference to the original concept of its foundation, Leaf Rides Wind, a non-lethal phrase depicting how fluidly a leaf dances upon a gentle breeze. Nano's repurposed technique makes her graceful killer on the battle field, chaining her attacks together the same way a handful of leaves swirl within a strong gust. She is more than proficient in the use of her sword, it is an extension of herself, a part of her. It is not a tool in her hands, but an instrument of death. Her movements are swift, and her strikes precise. She a storm, her sword the flicker of lightning, leaving behind only the rattling wails of death.
• Hand Forces Flow: Another misconstrued term, derived from Hand Parts Water, referencing how flowing water will part and move around the hand. The practice, again meant to be non-lethal, revolves around directly the flow of battle around oneself. Nano, rather, sees this as forcibly changing the flow of battle, and thus she is able to control situations by creating vulnerabilities in her opponents. Though this utilizes the primary teachings of Qui Fei Tsu, and Fei Tsu Ken, her version is less about tiring her opponent and more about reducing their combat effectiveness, if a finishing move isn't readily feasible. She does this by using the same methods of the two teachings, but instead of passively out-sustaining her opponent, she will use these moments to separate joins, break limbs, attack vital areas, and so forth.
• The Blind Sense: A benefit of the Tsu Fei Ken style, this practice focuses on enhancing the other senses, and relying less on what your eyes see. Meaning, against less experience, noisy opponents, Nano could quite possibly fight with her eyes closed by listening to her opponents breathing, their steps, the ruffle of their clothes, and other telltale sounds. Though not entirely effective on its own, except against aggressors of far lesser skill, its actually a necessary component of the Tsu Fei Ken style, as the eyes cannot see what's behind you. Additionally, this also helps stimulate her mind. She must think ahead, and make snap decisions to react to her opponent, or opponents.
• The Strength of the Willow: While not entirely strong physically, much of Nano's training has revolved around this concept. She is not the oak that stands tall in the storm, but the willow that stays rooted while bending to the winds. She takes thing as they come, and rolls with the punches. She may lack strength, but she greatly makes up for that with her agility, stamina, and maneuvers. She knows how to work herself out of holds, and even a variety of restraints. However, the key attribute of this teaching is that she understands how to bend in combat, meaning when an attack connects, she moves with it to substantially lessen the impact.
• Aspect of the Wind: A useful skill, considering how close she must be to her targets. The training revolving around the Aspect of the Wind is literally the art of movement closely resembling to how wind moves. The body is trained to react to obstacles fluidly, with both speed and agility. To break it down, this is a combination of training your reflexes and parkour. She has excellent reaction time and reflexes, and is able to traverse in unorthodox ways smoothly, and with varying amounts of speed depending on exactly what sort of obstacles she must over come. Some of these practices include moving without excessive hindrance through tight holes, up vertical surfaces, understanding maximum gap closing distance, landing safely, and so forth. Many of these skills can also be applied to combative movements.
• Eye of the Storm: Her training has also included the tailoring of her emotions, the destruction rages around the storm yet the center must remain calm. Meaning she remains cool and collected during what would otherwise be high stress situations. She's both cold, and calculating, and the idea that hesitation equals death has been imprinted in her mind. Nano was already an intelligent woman, and training out reactions based on emotion have only served to enhance these qualities. During the squall of battle, she is steel layered in ice. She is the tempest, and will do what she feels is necessary, without expending energy on trivial actions.
• Growth of the Sapling: A benefit of the original, intended purpose of her nanites, Nano can recover from the worst of wounds without too much cause for concern. Rather, the nanites are apt at repairing damaged cells and bodily structure, yet this is not an immeidate, or even quick benefit. In actuality it does two things, assists fixing her body and shortening the recovery period in comparison to a normal person, and helps keep her immunized against foreign bodies that could cause illness or disease.

Flaws:

• Links of the Chain: A drawback of the Death Rides Wind style, if Nano is interrupted while moving through a sequence of attacks she will ultimately fall out of sync with herself. Her mind is already two steps ahead, so breaking one of the links of her chain will scatter her attack completely and leave her vulnerable as she attempts to regain balance and recompose her combat process. This vulnerability is momentary, as she will back off and attempt to guard herself, yet this causes her to also lose the pressing edge of her attack and puts her on guard. A skilled opponent will use this to their advantage.
• Two-headed Snake: Qui Fei Tsu, and Tsu Fei Ken are styles that require proper use of the arms and legs. Without both arms, Nano's effective attacks are limited to what she can do with her legs, and vice versa. Especially since most of the techniques involved with these styles involve much more use of her arms than her legs. However, like two halves a whole, her can fight adequately with just her legs, she is just severely limited on the number of moves she can perform. However, this situation in reverse is much more difficult, as it is incredibly difficult to fight without her legs, and likely to be ineffective against even a moderately skilled opponent.
• The Frailty of the Willow: The entire purpose of this technique is to avoid damage, to shave down the power of attacks. Her body is not a thickly corded cage of muscle, but is rather soft and finely tuned. With hand to hand combat, she has trouble with opponents with substantial musculature, or high endurance. She also has trouble sustaining solid hits, lacking much in the endurance and resistance departments.
• Aspect of the Target: Nobody ever said using a sword in the modern age was a wise decision. Despite how well she can move, a person can only zig-zag so much before taking a few hits. Additionally, a figure running at you is likely to obtain your full attention due to the increasingly rises levels of threat. For every injury, or debilitating effect she sustains, her peak performance goes down and her combat ability declines right with it. She relies on being able to move quickly, and close distance efficiently, since she is almost guaranteed to draw the attention of her targets if she's within their visual range. However, this is less of a problem against other melee oriented opponents.
• Piercing of the Veil: Everybody is human, and even a cold, calculating combat machine like Nano are subject to that statement. Since genetically, she remains unaltered, she is still prone to human emotions such as acting in anger, hesitation, but most notably she is very prideful. She does her best not to show it, not to react to that particular feelings, but at other times she'll let loose if only to prove herself. She's trained all of her life, and is definitely lacking in departments of praise and compassion. It was never "Good Job", no "I love you", or "I'm proud of you", rather is was always a curt nod, a dismissive hand, a stoic look.
• Range of the Cactus: Nano is a close quarters combatant, just as she's been trained for the majority of her life. Consequently, she knows about zero when it comes to fire arms. In fact, she has no skill with the weapons period. Her hands shake when she aims, she forgets how to reload, and likely doesn't even know where the safety is. The only, and I mean the absolutely only situation a gun is useful for her is if it's already loaded, the safety is off, and the barrel currently resides between her victim's teeth. Even then, the action is rather pointless since she's a close quarters combatant anyways.
• Fears of the Flower: Nano has a form of aquaphobia, that surfaces only when she is fully submerged in water. Her methods of training were often times less than desirable, and has left her with the irrational fear of fully body submersion. Caedence does not suffer from aquaphobia, and can swim rather well.
• Erosion of the Stone: The nanites within Nano's body, as mentioned above, are self sustaining. These molecular robots achieve this by using the natural minerals she ingests and those that her body produces. Despite how incredibly difficult it would be to destroy a molecular machine, it is possible, increasing the amount of resources the nanites consume to replace these machines. Nano has to supplement her diet with powerful multivitamins which she takes once a day normally. During states where the nanites consumption increases due to a decline in their numbers, Nano must increase her dosage, typically needing no more than two or three.
• The Flash of the Storm: While she is partially protected against such attacks, a large electro-magnetic pulse will disable her nanites. The machines do have protection against burning out completely however. Most notably, a tiny, minimal draw shield that doesn't actually protect the nanites, but senses when an electro-magnetic, or similar pulse is about to hit the nanite. At that point, the nanites automatically perform an immediate shutdown. Information is stored in a black box system, which will automatically reboot the nanites after the pulse has passed and it is safe to do so. This also serves to turn of her nanite given abilities, including her kinetic barrier, particle sword, and prevents her from activating the Akinetophic field.
• Yin and Yang: As with most intensely trained killers, she's a bit fucked up in the head. Nano suffers from Disassociation Identity Disorder, meaning she has two personalities. The first, is perhaps what she could have been under normal circumstances, and closely reflects a truer, positive nature—Yang. Her other side is the product of her training, the cold, remorseless killer—Yin.
• Wilting of the Weed: Despite the arguably small medicinal benefits of her nanites, this comes with a drawback. When the nanites are focusing on fixing say, a broken bone, or creating scar tissue, she's very susceptible to foreign bodies and will likely come down with flu-like symptoms. When fighting off foreign bodies, she will feel weak and mimic the symptoms of a fever. Both of these states of illness increase in intensity depending on the amount of effort the nanites must use. Both of these at the same time will cripple her, and render her pretty much useless in a combat situation. I say nearly, because her zombie-like state may terrify lesser beings into fleeing in terror.

Personality:
Caedence is the Yang of her two personalities; she is the creative, joyous light. She has a compassionate nature about her, while also being fun and playful, if a bit docile, or submissive at times. She has a warm smile, which she shows often, and kind eyes. She tries to see the best in people, even hardened criminals have good qualities and deserve empathy and understanding. She also tries to remain positive, but sometimes this trait is obscured by her meekness. She knows the world is cruel, and she knows of the stains that blacken her soul. She is also fully aware of her alter ego, and what she does. On a normal day, Caedence likes to ignore these facts. She's also more in tune with her emotions, and tries to keep herself from dangerous situations.

Nano is the Yin side of Caedence, a side that is darker, colder, and stained with blood. She's a start contrast to the sweet, caring Caedence. She can be patronizing, sarcastic, and playfully seductive. She embodies the darker qualities Caedence does not. She more dominant, and aggressive, especially when being flirty or sexually playful. She sees the world for what it really is, a selfish, cruel world that punishes the just, and rewards the corrupt. She's detached from herself, feeling very little in the way of stimulating emotion other than amusement, pleasure, and pride. On a sub-note she's also capable of anger, but when engaged in combat she loses all of this and feels nothing, becoming devoid of limiting emotions, which is to say, all of them. She typically does not feel regret, or sadness, perhaps a sprinkling of loathing and a healthy dash of contempt. Nano will not stray from a fight, especially if her pride is challenged. She is the funnel into which Caedence pushes all of her pain and hurt, all of her dark thoughts and desires, everything negative in her life.

Personal Biography:

A brief look into the history of Caedence Senichi-Tagawa

Lightning flares, punctuating the silhouette of a young girl's martial forms with the clap of thunder. Rain falls steadily, drenching the small figure, pitter-pattering against stone and thrumming against the angled tile roofing of the private housing. Shielded from outside eyes behind opaque white walls, decorative in nature, the girl practiced. A solemn wind rustled through the petals of colorful gardens forming a swirling pattern of colors as it washed through the compound. A door squeaked open softly admitting a stealthy observer, quiet steps bring him to a railing of polished wood. The girl did turn around, but continued her forms as before. Her face placid, she barely made a sound as she danced through the clear, rippling puddles, another shadow in the night. The breeze swept low, rustling the large cherry blossom tree centered in the courtyard and stealing from it a multitude of dazzlingly pink petals. The child poised herself, as the gust whipped her raven hair about her, snatching the petals from the air.

She turned, splaying her palm open before the figure, presenting her feat. Lean, powerful legs hidden beneath the pleated folds of a Hakama step forward. The elevated Geta clacked across the courtyard of smooth, polished stones as the watcher approached the child, his figure looming over her imposingly. The end of his Bokken, a wooden sword, thumped across the back of her legs roughly, reminding her to kneel. The girl let out a squeak of surprise from the stringing mark left on her legs, earning her another thwap. Biting her tongue, she steadied her breath and waited as her father observed the petals in her hand. He reached down, plucking out the ones that had been crushed or torn. Three disfigured petals lay before her, flowing away in the streams crisscrossing the courtyard.

Thwap-Thwap-Thwap

The girl let out a whimper before she could stop herself—Thwap.

"Again," He spoke, his powerful voice left no room for anything else. The girl rose, bowing to her father before continuing her ritualistic dance, practicing her forms as she waited for the next flurry to bring her more petals. A door out of view squeaked once more as it closed, signaling the likely departure of her instructor. She dare not stop, nor lie. She always got caught, and the punishments were much worse than simply failing. She schooled her face, silently hoping that nature would take mercy on her. Inside the building her father stood, shaking his head silently as he looked at the meal growing cold on the small, low table. It was going to be one of those nights, he might as well make some tea.

Dawn broke, illuminating the form of the weary child, struggling to continue. The storm had long since blown over, yet the girl was still soaked through to the bone. She sniffled, ignoring her runny nose as she labored through her forms, her foot cutting swathes in still puddles marred by the broken forms of cherry blossoms. Her father was watching again, a scowl tempting the edges of his face as his daughter collapsed against the chilled, wet stones. He strode towards her, his tongue clicking in a sound of disappointed irritation.

"Rise," He commanded, and she did. The girl struggled to her feet, her body limp and exhausted, but his voice left no room for disobedience. "You will eat, and then sleep. I expect to see you when you awake."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

An array of figures basked in the light streaming through translucent sections of the pale, colorless wall, their powerful forms hovering at the edge of a large, bamboo mat. A young girl stood before them, dressed in similar white clothes as the figures laughed and snickered at her. A mere child, who couldn't have been older than eleven, a part of their demonstration. The members of the Senichi's expansive family nearly laughed themselves to tears, though the girl remained straight and stoic, ignoring their presumptuous cackles. To men stood to one end, dressed in hues of dark blue, the colors of the master. One, thick in body and with a chiseled face bordered by a thick beard was scowling menacing. The other, her father, his clean shaven face all planes and angles looked on passively, knowingly. Yet, he did not smile as the other pointed out one of his men to the ring, a grin split wide across his face.

"Now, Hanjo, Ichizo here will put an end to this mockery and you will show us your real warriors," Tsuga voiced, the tone of his voice underlined with amusement. Hanjo merely let out a quiet 'Hmph', choosing not to fully acknowledge the statement. He simple watched as the two fighters took their stances, one seemingly severely outmatched by the other.

"Master Inowa, surely you can't expect me to fight this girl?" Ichizo asked, rather concerned at the arrangement.

"I expect you to display the full prowess of an Inowa Disciple, this is Hanjo's arrangement therefore it will be his problem when it's over, just try not to break anything," Tsuga commanded, silencing his disciple's opinion through the sheer intensity of his voice, though it hardly altered in pitch.

"Begin"

Ichizo rushed forward, already formulating a plan of attack, he would be firm, but gentle. He did not want to hurt the young girl too badly. His leg sprung from the side, arcing through the air with excellent speed, though it passed only empty air. His eyes widened as the small girl dropped low beneath his kick, throwing out her own leg and sweeping his ankle. He grimaced, pushing himself up off of the mat at the spectators fell silent. Tsuga, in particular, was scowling again.

Once more the male fighter struck out, feinting with another kick and following with his fists instead. He came low, sweeping upwards and again his strike passed through only the air. He reacted quicker this time, using his moment to spin his body and follow through with an elbow. Two small hands gripped his arm, her smaller form forcing him to continue his momentum and throwing him off of balance. He stumbled, spinning wildly as he once more met the mat. This time his fall was a thing of laughter for the other disciples.

"Hah!" "Surely Ichi isn't losing to a child?" "What a mockery."
"What disgraceful form." "Ichi stop screwing around!"
"He's one of the best?" "Are you joking?"
"Pathetic." "No way."

Ichizo grimaced, his face hot with humiliation. The girl didn't smile, or gloat, she barely even made a sound. Most infuriating of all, she'd barely moved from her starting position. He let out a growl, losing all inhibitions of holding back. He charged forward, in a series of moves. He crouched, sweeping his foot low, she jumped over it. He followed up with a second, overhead kick, she moved like a wraith to the side, his strike whispering only through strands of hair. His teeth pressed together in anger. Without pause he used his prior move to step forward, close to her, striking out from his mid section. It was like trying to fight a shadow, he punched, she moved, he kicked, she side-stepped, he swung, he missed, swing, and miss. He let out a cry of rage, throwing a sloppy punch. Caedence took his arm, spinning as she tugged it forward, causing Ichizo to toppled over her small form.

"Hiyah!" Her small body cried, leveling an overhead kick into the back of his neck. He let out a grunt, she wasn't strong enough to incapacitate him that easily. He began pushing himself up, but another kick to his temple sent his vision spinning. He raised an arm to defend his face as he rose further. Two quick, successive strikes behind his knee sent him down once more. The child's attacks and the laughter of his peers were too much. He sprung to his feet, the strain of his efforts overshadowed by a tide of unyielding rage. Faster than she had anticipated, he took hold over her arm and flung her with all the might he could muster.

Caedence whimpered, feeling the socket tug painfully as Ichi propelled her through the air. She remained composed however, angling her body and landing in a low crouch. She could hear him, his bullish breathing, his thundering steps. She leveled a kick backwards, one that connected with his groin and sent him crashing over her. His face hit the mat with a thud. Caedence rolled over, kneeling on him as she hurled her fists repeatedly into the back of his head.

"Hah! Hah! Hiyah!" She called as Ichi's face bounced slightly against the mat.

"Enough," Her father commanded. Immediately Caedence rose, her body stiff as a tree, and bowed. The audience stared, open mouthed. "Perhaps next time, it will be you who brings a real warrior," Hanjo replied flatly.

Awhile later, as the sun was nearing its peak, Hanjo sat in the middle of a garden composed of finely raked gravel, and flourishing beds of exotic flowers. Beside on the same, smoothly carved stone bench sat his daughter, who was currently busy pouring two cups of freshly brewed leaves. His gaze lingered on a rippling pong, where large, fat fish swam playfully. He was quite displeased, despite the performance his daughter had given. Surely he should feel happiness and pride, yet a quiet storm of emotional shadowed those feelings.

"Tomorrow, when we arrive home, you will begin the steps again..." He started, pausing only to sip the scalding tea, "After your punishment."

"Punishment, Otousan?" Caedence repeated, tonelessly. She already knew once, but the question was one act of minute rebelliousness she could have without offense.

"You allowed him to throw you like a useless toy. Had this been a real fight, he would have taken that opportunity to kill you," Hanjo explained. He was never one to punish without proper reasoning. Caedence nodded in acceptance, likely it would be the birch strap, the usual grade of punishment for failures such as this. She did not respond then, there was no need for an answer. He knew she would try, and she knew he expected her to excel.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The morning was dim, painting the land and the Senichi private residence in hues of gray. Members of the household began to stir as the sun slowly crept its way over the horizon, further hidden behind scattered clouds. The scents of dough being turned, and tea leaves seeping began to permeate the air. For the Senichi familly, they were no days off. Men and woman began filling wash basins and buckets, to begin their routine of scrubbing, polishing, and waxing. Others began to don their outfits, to begin a morning of training and discipline. The children would file out into the courtyard, to begin their own form of practice for most of the day, exempt from most chores to study both general education and the martial arts. Caedence stirred from her sleep, pushing a book she had been studying from her face. She stretched and yawned, as she thought ahead to the coming weekend. There were no breaks, especially not as the daughter of the head, yet school work was only done during the week.

She looked around the frozen image of her room, as still as the morning air. She put on her uniform, her thoughts wandering into a daydream of what breakfast would hold. Although that wouldn't be until later in the morning. The door let out only a quiet whoosh as she jogged down the corridor, heading for the courtyard. She was halfway down the breezeway when she stopped with fright. A man had appeared before her, literally appeared. He blinked into her vision, his body crouched over a large brush where he should be running across the floor. Yet, as she stared, his form only continued to blink forward some, and freeze, over and over. She struggled for words, her voice nothing but a croak as she choked on her own terror.

"Caedence?" The man asked, he had blinked again, he was besides her now. Caedence backed away in sheer horror, bumping into the railing as he called her name again. She looked over her shoulder, startled by the barrier, and her fear found new levels to drown her in. Outside in the courtyard everything was, blinking. Each person she saw was frozen, only moving by disappearing and reappearing elsewhere.

"Caedence, Child, what's wrong?" The voice asked, over, and over again. Caedence remained frozen, unable to form words, unable to tear her gaze away from the still motion of the world around her, jumping through its motions as if jerking through the frames of an image. Finally the shock subsided, and a scream found its way to the top of her throat.

"OTOUSAN!? OTOUSAN!?" She screamed, propelled down the hallway by her own emotions. Things blinked rapidly in and out of her view as she ran. Objects that had been there before disappeared, and things constantly popped into her view. Hanjo had been sitting at his desk, writing out a notice for the rest of the family when he heard her screams. He sneered, looking at the long swathe of ink running across the bottom of the page where his hand had jerked. He stood angrily, making it to his door before he spied the wild, terrified look of his daughter. This was unlike her, fear was an emotion she did not feel. He looked beyond her, searching for some sort of immense danger, but found none.

"What is the meaning of this? Explain yourself Caedence," He ordered as his daughter literally ran face first into him. She clutched at his Hakama, her red face stricken with tears.

"I can't see them, I can't see them move, I ca-.. I can-.." Her words became lost as a torrent of sobs wracked her body.

Later that night, Hanjo sat at his daughter's beside, his hand pressed to her forehead. Such a rare thing to occur, and to his daughter no less. His own mighty flesh and blood. How the heavens must laugh, striking his daughter with such an affliction. He frowned in thought, surely the power of man superseded that of the old gods now. He stood, ignoring the compassionate look on the nurse's face. He did not need to feel sorrow, or guilt. He was angry, yes. Angry at the muses of nature, but his family would prevail. The Senichi-Tagawa bloodline would remain strong, starting with his daughter. Tomorrow, he would contact the galactic federation, perhaps there was cure. If not, he would find somebody who could make one.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A year later, Caedence found herself staring at an electronic display, far from the marked line where she stood. "E," She began, reading off the chart. She was in an optometrist lab, reading off a display of increasingly small letters to a technician, a warm smile was plastered on his face. He nodded, urging her to continue. She gazed back at the screen, bracketed by smooth white walls covered with informative posters and signs warning of dangerous signs of cancer, or oncoming blindness.

"W."

It had taken quite a long time to find a cure, to repair the damaged cortex in her brain. An array of medical professions had speculated that she may have been victim to a seizure, or stroke, while she slept, claiming she had trouble remembering it. She was certain that she had not woken during the night, but regardless there had been damage to her brain. This damage led to a disorder so rare, that nobody really knew about it, and thus funding to research a cure had never really been sought except by groups so small that they're progress was negligible.

"Q."

Her father sought other sources, and it wasn't long until a name was passed to him—Axton Blayse. The man was considered the prodigal son of engineering, a genius who was currently doing astounding work with machines so small they couldn't be seen without a high powered microscope. A year was such a short time, in comparison, yet Axton had always said it was taking far too long. Caedence had quietly wondered how her father could afford such a thing, she had been told he would ruin himself funding this research. To be truthful, she wasn't even sure what her father did for a living. Even when he disappeared for weeks a time, she had watchers ensuring she trained and studied.

"G."

Axton had created something extraordinary, something that could change the course of human history. A tiny robotic machine that could advance science years into the future, at the least. A self-sustaining, self-replicating nanite. Her father had urged him to secrecy, ensuring the further potential of Axton's creations. Caedence had heard some of it, promises of riches, military application, and the like. Lesser men, Hanjo had told her, are always prone to propelling their greed to the furthest limits. Not only did these nanites repair her on a molecular level, but they began to take on more puspose. Afterwards, Axton had vanished.

"K."

During the time of her affliction, her father made her treat it as a part of her training. Much too early for a girl who was barely a teenager, yet he had pushed her even harder. At home she wore a blindfold, never taking it off, and was expected to be ready when an attack was sprung on her. Her opponents never went easy on her, and she could always her the disappointment in her voice. The punishments increased in severity. From brutal lashing with a switch, or cane, to physically holding her head repeatedly underwater, until she was left to cough out lungfuls of water.

"X."

She struck the thoughts from her mind, it was only because her father cared so much for her to succeed in a world that was so cruel and difficult. She'd heard of famous people chewed up and spit out in the blink of an eye, and others where the best protection money could by couldn't save them. No, to survive was to depend on yourself, and only that. Nobody in this world gave two shits about you, don't trust them, don't listen to their filthy lies. They will harm you, steal from you, lie to you, manipulate you. The world will use you, and discard your withered corpse into the streets with the rest.

"Y."

The technician nodded, "Good, Good, do you feel any pain?"

"No," She lied, ignoring the splitting headache burrowing through her skull, the stinging fire coursing through her veins as her body rejected the presence of the foreign machines.

"Have you felt any pain since.." The technician paused, finding her operation only listed as experimental, "Ah.. since your procedure?"

"No," She lied again, pushing away the memories of her writhing on the floor, curled into a ball of pain.

"Any trouble sleeping, or eating, any abnormalities to your usual routine?"

"No," her voice was flat, her face perfectly blank as she refused to acknowledge all the mornings she was doubled over, vomiting and then dry heaving when her body had nothing left to give. All the sleepiness nights she lied awake, willing herself not to cry as her body's initial rejection of the nanites flared up. The crippling fatigue that would wash over her, or the ache in her bones. She was a fighter.

"Any motion sickness, ringing in the ears, abnormal coloring of the skin-"

"Nothing at all, I have been in perfect health since fulfilling the recovery period."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Another couple of years passed, during which she underwent a further increase to her training. She had also taken on meditation, and more advances styles of martial arts, along with learning how to use the sword, specifically the Katana, and those of similar design. She was a new metal, ready to be forged in the fires of her Father's desires, molded by the weight of his expectations, of what he had done for her. For all of the ill things he spoke about the world, he had not discarded her. She stood now, like many times before, in another bloodlines practice ring, her toes flexing against the thing strips of bamboo composing the mat beneath her. To either side students of Qui Tsu Fei fighting style stood, observing the yearly tournament the Senichi family held to show off skill and award rank.

"Didn't she miss last year?" One of them whispered.

"I heard she went blind," Another voice whispered back.

Caedence ignored them, focusing instead on her breathing and her surroundings. Another woman stepped forward, she was years older by far and had the face of somebody wizened with experience. The middle aged woman bowed respectfully before Caedence, a girl merely in her mid teens. Caedence returned the gesture, before taking her stance once more. A dignified member of the family broke through the crowd, offering each of the women a sturdy Bokken. Both of the women accepted their weapons, Caedence leveling her's before her in a straight line, a formal stance mirrored by her opponent.

"Begin," The gravelly voice of the eldest commanded.

"Yamate" she whispered, feeling thousands of tiny flutters against her skin as the nanites exploded from her body in speeds far too fast for her eyes to see. In less than a second she was bathed in a purple hue, the faces of her watchers seemingly frozen in time. Experimenting with her ability had shown that the field will begin to lighten into a brighter shade of blue, increasingly changing from purple as it draws to the end of it's duration. She wasted no time, rushing forward with her sword held at the ready. At a dead run she jumped, parallel to the ground as both of her feet connected with the solid force of her opponent's body. Caedence rolled, leaping once more into her attack at the field began to lighten from plum, to lavender, and finally to a sky colored teal. She took a position behind her opponent, steadying her breathing as she focused her ears on the elder, perched against the far wall of the room.

The field dissipated as quickly as it had come, leaving all that delayed forced to hit Caedence's opponent all at once. The woman's body flew backwards, her face frozen in shock as pain exploded across her body. Her limbs flailed as she turned quick rotations through the air, whirling like a human torpedo into the stunned crowd. A resounding slap echoed, as the suppressed forces caught up to Caedence. Her bokken exploded into a hundred wooden shards, leaving her hands only with a hilt. The crowd gasped collectively, their voices immediately protesting their disbelief.

"Did you see how fast she moved?" A man asked as medical staff rushed over to the battered form of Caedence's victim.

"That's not possible, she's cheating!" Another voice cried. Caedence stood, dusting herself off as another man entered the ring.

"She was searched and scanned before entering, I saw it!" A third said in her defense, a statement that was quite true.

Caedence ignored all of them, looking up towards the elder, and most importantly to her father position next to the older man. He didn't smile, but he nodded, which was as good to Caedence as a hug, a kiss, and a brand new puppy. 'Cheating? For being better than them? Nonsense' her father had said. In his desire for her to be the best, Caedence felt he was losing his way, forgoing his honor and her family's traditions. But he had saved her life, surely he was right in this. Honor was impractical, it was a weight to drag you down. Another part of her argued against that, but it was a quiet, meek park.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"It's time you joined the family business."

The words echoed in the back of Caedence's mind, now just on the cusp of adulthood. A shrieking wind was coursing through the night, carrying frigid air to slither across the outside of her armor. She lay against a glass window, held to it by a pair of air compressing gloves that acted like suction cups. A hundred stories below her, a city bustles with life among tall towers and thickly crowded roads. She did not feel afraid, but focused as she looked up towards the final floor. The penthouse suite, and the current temporary home of a target that had been rather hard to follow. It had been months since she'd been home, receiving only coded messages from her father's organization as she followed the trail of a target labeled only as 'Crow'.

She looked at the small picture hovering at the edge of her vision, overlayed aboved her electronic display. It wasn't much to go off of, a dark picture of a man with shadow black hair and a coat blown askew by a snow flurry. According to the substantial dossier, he was a known criminal, head of one of the top gangs terrorizing the galaxy. Caedence had read all thiry-six pages herself, and that was just what they knew of him. Above her, the windows fell into darkness as the suite's lights were turned out. She waited another forty minutes before moving.

"Hakiri," She said, drawing her sword with one hand. The blade hummed with soft vibrations as a starkly contrasting glow wrapped around the blade, like a torch held up in the night. With a swift motion she cut a roughly shaped hole through the window before her, and slithered inside. A disembodied voice called out in concern, as a like flicked on. A man with wild, cray hair stumbled into view, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Caedence's weapon speared forward before he could utter a single sound, fluidly opening him up from groin to neck in a single, swift motion. He crumpled to the ground, uttering soundless cries through a ruined throat as he tried to hold the vital pieces of himself where they were supposed to be. Caedence ignored him and moved into the next room, ignoring the need for a keycard by sweeping her weapon through the metal door itself.

The resident of this room too, met the same fate at the ghostly visage flickered before them, its weapon the brush to paint their blood upon the canvas of the room. Caedence barely paused to acknowledge the falling body as she stood below the ceiling, just short of the rooms far edge. She had studied the layout of the building, and with a little recon before hand determined the location of the master bed in the suite above her. She ran at the wall, her leg compressing as she launched herself in the opposite direction, dragging her sword across the ceiling. She landed, and immediately repeated the maneuver, slightly angling her cut another direction. Each time she did, she was met with an ear splitting screeching of metal groaning beneath its failing ability to hold the floor. A third pass and the ceiling dipped inward, hesitating just a second before caving in and bringing a fairly large bed toppling in with it.

"Yamate!" She called, feeling the same fluttering sensation on her skin. The scene before her froze, plaster smashing against the ground, loose wires letting off sparks, and a dark haired man sitting up in the bed. There was a look of surprise on his face, and a gun in his hand. From the way his body was position he must have been getting out of bed, likely alerted to something amiss from the sounds of her cutting through the floor. She leapt forward, using the falling debris as stepping stones in her ascension towards her target. Without hesitation she plunged her blade into his chest, before canceling her field of distortion, and the particle light sheathe of her blade.

The bed crashed to the ground, causing Crow to cry out in pain as his body jerked against the sword impaled into his chest, though the sound was cut off by a gurgle of blood. The lights in the room flickered ominously as he smiled, blood trailing from either side of his mouth. He raised up a shaking hand with effort, reaching into the breast pocket of his silken night shirt. "You're father.." He choked out, handing her a small case, before letting out one final, sinister chuckle. Caedence peered inside, seeing only a usb drive. She left her mark scattered all over his lifeless form, filled with no more emotion than when she had began as she considered the enigma of the drive.

It was later that she checked it, during her flight home after escaping the skyscraper. The shuttle rocked violently as it propelled itself into space, something no uncommon among cheaper flights. The drive held an expansive database of files on it, most detailing locations and dates. She chose a video a random, watching intently as a camera feed pulled up. A figured hidden through a heavy layer of shadow stalked up a corridor, from the other end a woman was approaching. She recognized the suit her father adorned during work, a set of armor based around the concepts of ancient ninja, and samurai. What had Crow meant to show her with this however? She knew what her father did for a living, she did the same thing, hunting down criminals and-

Hanjo moved without warning as he passed the woman, throwing her against the wall. Caedence recognized her as a bounty, at least one she'd seen inside the records of completion for her fathers kills. In this, the woman was dressed as a commoner, in a blouse and skirt, and even a bag of groceries. Caedence thought back, trying to remember what the report had said, but her thoughts went askew as the horrid scenes played before her. She activated the sound, plugging in a pair of ear buds into her wrist pad. Immediately her ears were assaulted by the shrieks of the woman.

"You look a lot like my late wife," Her father sneered, a look so menacing plastered on his face that Caedence didn't even recognize him. His hand ripped at the woman's clothes as he pressed a free arm against her throat. Caedence shut the video off, noting the subject number in the title. A little searching found the correct folder, and an entirely different report about the woman. She was nobody, a nobody who was engaged and a mother of one. Something deep within Caedence shuddered, suddenly becoming obsessed with the data drive. Another showed more vile acts, from other members of the secret sect of assassins, and still more, and more, and more until Caedence was left shaking, feeling a rage she'd never known existed within her.

"Honor," she seethed, stalking down the halls of her home. She had done nothing but stew on the ride back, watching the videos again, and again.

"Discipline," she hissed, her blade drawn as she marched through the still night, a whisper carried only on the wind.

"Honor," she growled again, standing before her father's door, "Discipline..."

"Honor.." her hand shook, violently, "Discipline, Honor, Discipline, Honor, Discipline..."

"..."

"...Yamate!"

Personal Belongings:

• Nova brand cigarettes, known for their cool, minty feel. Both girls smoke.
• Silver flip lighter with an embossed figured of an eastern dragon.
• An airtight packet of cherry blossoms.
• A tin of breath mints.
• A pair of black ear buds.

Other: Caedence and Nano were imprisoned for seven years at the age of nineteen.

Theme Song

Little Kit's Box

M A K I A H K A P L E N - M E A D O W S

F e m a l e ● T w e n t y - T h r e e ● A B - P o s i t i v e

M U T A T I O N S

● Enhanced Durability and Heat Resistance
Kiah has dark, sooty black scarring that's cracked and split, resembling cooled magma rock and the molten glow beneath. This scarring travels from her hands, up to her forearms and fades out just past her elbows. It also covers her feet,shins, and creeps just up towards the middle of her thighs. There is also scarring around her eyes, with finer cracks, and irises that glow like white hot coals.

The scarring is hard as a rock, offering her good resistance to external forces, but can be broken off. When a section is broken off, the revealed area glows dull orange, like lava. Thanks to the Changed's regeneration abilities, the rocky covering can grow back quickly, but takes a little longer to thicken up, and harden. An additional benefit to her condition, Kiah is highly resistance to heat and flame where the scarring covers her.

● Playing With Fire
Makiah has the ability to generate and control fire. Kinectically, she can emit bursts of flame, and bend it to her will. She can also control natural fire, which is considerably less taxing than generating it herself. As she uses her power, she heats up, becoming hotter and hotter. She can create an aura of intense heat around herself, making her body too hot to touch. She can intensify this into an actual aura of flame itself, becoming a living human torch.

A P P E A R A N C E

^{| Artistic Rendering of Makiah |}

With shoulder-length, raven black hair Kiah is almost the spitting image of her sister. Sharing many traits with her mother, her face is softer and rounder, but has the same button nose and pert mouth as Natalie. Though, she does have her father's eyes; large, and ocean blue, they have her mother's warmth. Fortunately she wasn't gifted with her mother's height, standing a little taller at 5'6 (170cm), and weighing a reasonable 136 lbs (61.6 kg).

Kia's complexion is relatively clear, and has a moderate tan. Though, since her mutations have awakened her tan lines have seemed to have evaporated into a full body tan, perhaps that has something to due with her affinity to heat. Also, her skin is always noticeably hot, also due to her mutations. She has a small waist, a slender figure, and a pair of compact B-cups.

● Butterfly Bow tattoos on either side of her pelvis, near the top of her hip line.
● Pierced ears and bellybutton.

P E R S O N A L I T Y

Kia is an ambitious risk-taker who knows how to have fun. Before the end, she was no stranger to a club with pounding music, a bar flowing with drink, and always seemed to have headphones in her ears. Always moving, always tapping her feet or strumming her fingers, she's self-diagnosed herself with A.D.D. She's prone to her impulses, and often isn't as observant as she could be if she just slowed down.

Kia can also be known to be rather flirty, at least in a comfortable situation. She cares about people, she's quick to trust, and she always tries to find the good lurking within everyone. Always the optimistic, she lives her life riding the silver-lining.

R E F L E C T I O N S : P A R T T W O

Makiah

Arcturo's haunted, blue eyes stared at the dim screen of his phone, reading the brief message—"Alive." Suddenly, he was a sobbing mess. The emotional trauma of the evening had been too much for him. He stood, spurred into action, but stopped dead in his tracks as the windows behind him shook in their casings. A new sense of dread washed over him, running down his spine. He took another drink, feeling the cold ice press against his lips. He cursed quietly to himself, he had never been a big drinker but tonight he was done with etiquette. He pulled the bottle from his desk, taking a healthy swig before plopping down in his chair. Alive. They were alive, his daughters. That was something, right? But.. what hope could there be for them? He had seen what was happening outside. The cold truth of it was, they were all going to die.

He glanced down at the still open book, at the large pink lettering spellings his second daughter's name—Makiah. He reached out, hesitantly at first, before defeat settled in him. What else was he to do? What else could he do? Good people were being slaughtered in the street, trained men and women with weapons. And what did he have? Nothing but a handgun he'd never had to use, Hell he didn't even know how to use it. Fear clutched his heart as he caught the barest trace of movement from the corner of his eye, a shadow moving in front of his office window. He stared, and stared, but it didn't return. Another swig from the bottle, and he turned the page.

Makiah, screaming at the top of her glee filled lungs, riding on his shoulders. He could almost feel her tiny little legs, almost hear her laughter. Her sister was there too, just a stricken with happiness at seeing the fun her sister was having. Arcturo wiped a tear from his eye, thinking back at what a Daddy's girl Makiah had been. Another picture on the page, the Fourth of July. Makiah was showcased in her little griller's outfit, putting on a grand show of being such a big cook.. well, Daddy's little helper as he had called her. A second picture, capturing Kiah sharing the holiday cheer with their dog by filling his bowl with pink lemonade. The chuckle that resounded from Arcturo however, was dead and lifeless.

The pages were soundless are he carefully perused through them, taking in all the memories he'd collected over the years. The girls had always given him a hard time about being "That Dad." The kind that seemed permanently attached to a camera, or a record—How he wished he had some of those home movies with him now, to forget this insanity. Still, the pictures took him back. Makiah giving her best "Big Girl" face, shouldering a pink backpack on one side and ready for her first day of high school. Distantly, he could hear the way he chuckled at her as she hid her anxiety.

The pages moved faster now. Makiah in choir, standing in long red robes and her mouth agape as she held a shrill note; Makiah all dressed up in a red marching outfit, with one of those ridiculous hats with the fluffy plumes on her head as she huffed away at a saxophone; Makiah winning third place in a state sponsored art contest, she had sculpted a T-Rex. The memories flashed by, Arcturo's hands moved faster, as if he was afraid he wouldn't have time to finish. Makiah and her sister, dressed up for Halloween and both a little more provocatively than he would have liked.

Christmas. Makiah had been so full of life, getting her first car. She'd nearly shattered his ribs with her hugs. He remembered Natalie had gone with him, to help him pick it out. Nobody knew Makiah better than her sister. They shared a bond that he could never match, but his little Ki had loved him. He stopped on a picture of Makiah up on stage, playing Wendy in a play about Peter Pan. His thumb traced over the image, feeling the odd texture of the protective sleeve. Next to that, a picture of them all singing, one of the few his wife had captured. Nat had complimented his voice, saying he sounded like "A wood chipper eating a cat".

This was it.. No more plays, no more games, no more performances or songs, no smiles, no more hugs. No more chances to guide or teach them, to fix what he did wrong. There was no more time. The thud of something slamming into the wall running the length of the corridor outside his door. A low growl, and then suddenly the loud wails of somebody in terror.. somebody dying. Arcturo reached into his drawer, pulling out the pistol and aiming it at the door. He took another swig of whiskey, his head spinning. He remembered to thumb down the safety, his index hanging over the trigger.

Once more he glanced down. Makiah smiled up at him, surrounded by her pretty friends, arms laden with bags. She was a shopper, just like her mother. She'd always been a popular girl, always hanging around with the "in" crowds. Despite the fact that she had made decent grades, she didn't try hard for college. Instead she had argued a rather well put together case about how getting a job early on was better than student debt. Fortunately, she knew how to manage her money well. She had moved herself out, and even helped out Nat by giving her a place to stay after her latest breakup. Makiah was never a floozy, at least not that Arcturo knew about, but she had sense enough to put her job before her love life. He wasn't even sure if she'd ever actually lived with anybody else besides Nat.

Her turned the final page. The last picture had all of them, the whole family, excluding the old dog. Elliora had gotten a new lapdog, some fluffy mongrel he couldn't remember the name of, a pom-pom or something close to that. Makiah had been devastated after Mac Grooger passed away, the first dog which she in her young age had taken the liberty of naming. However, upon meeting the newest addition to their family and being over come with joy, she'd promptly named him Sergeant Waffles, The Destroyer of Worlds.

His lips moved ever so slightly, uttering the barest traces of sound. For the first time in his life, he was praying, to what ever god was listening as he typed out a reply. The barrel of the gun wavered unsteadily, pressed against the side of his head. His finger sliding smoothly in position over the trigger. This is it, he thought, I'm all out of time. He pressed send, and pulled the trigger.

E Q U I P M E N T

● Cigarettes and lighter.
● Smartphone.
● Hello Kitty brand pepper-spray.
● "Lady Mary Jane".
● Rolling papers.

P R O F I C I E N C I E S

● "Hello, Thank you for choosing..." Without any real technical, or practical trade skills, Kiah's only real work force benefit comes from talking to people. Five years of customer service will do that, and teach you how to get what you want: Like diffusing a situation, especially when your ass is on the line.

● "Inter-Store Triathlon." Being near the bottom of the corporate ladder meant Kiah got her hands dirty with plenty of grunt labor. Jogging with product boxes, bending and lifting, and scaling ladders equaled her work provided entry level gym membership. At least it helped keep her muscles in shape and provided a good core workout. This and getting her cardio in at the gym, or through early morning jogs, means she's in better than average shape compared to the rest of the world.

● "Those are rookie numbers." Little did she know, her strategic planning ability sure is likely to come in handy nowadays. Working as a manager in retail meant she had too much work and not enough time, along with planning the everyday normal things; Her outfit for the night, How she was going to do her makeup, If she had time to run errans, What to eat for dinner, If she was going to miss any of her favorite shows, Calculating how much money she had in the bank. Crunching all these numbers, and perfecting all of these plans has oriented her brain to strategic thinking. How to use facts, how to manage her time, her resources, and most importantly—Remembering every detail.

L I M I T A T I O N S

● "Vice City." Nobody's perfect right? Well, neither is reality, work, or all of the struggles that come with adult life. Kiah like to spend her nights out, clubbing, bar hopping, or just perusing around the town. Her nights were late, and her mornings came much too early. She's the kind of person to lay in bed for ten extra minutes, debating whether to call into work or not. The one thing that really helped her feel leveled out is something she shares with her sister, Good ol' "Lady Mary Jane". Kia is also a smoker, and a frequent drinker.

● "Do Not Operate When..." There are two major downsides to Kiah's powers. The first is the cooling of her body, much like snuffing out a candle flame. She's particularly vulnerable to excessive cold temperatures, the kind that negates her body temperature, despite how hot she usually is. Water is a double-sided coin: On one hand she'll warm standing water, fortunately well below boiling point. On the other, cold water will have the same effect as cold temperatures, sapping away her body heat until she shuts down completely. The second downside is that fire is a raging, destructive force. It can be hard to control, the more intense the fire the harder it is to stop. This fact is even more true when her emotions are running wild, she can become a conflagration instantaneously, even subconsciously.

● "The Grass is Always Greener..." Despite the rocky road life can be with her sister, Kiah is what you'd call an optimist. Always trying to have a positive outlook, always trying to find that silver-lining. She hasn't been wholly exposed to the cruelty of the world, or she looks away. She's got a good heart, but that only means she takes the negative harder.

● "Little Inferno." Due to her outlook on life, it's not often that Kiah finds herself truly down in the slumps, or very angry. But, when she gets truly pissed... well, that's when things can get out of control. Iconically, anger and fire go hand-in-hand, and she's a living example of that. Like a lit match on a dry plains swept with wind, she'll become the kind of inferno you've only heard about.

● "Stoking the Fire" Makiah not only has a limit to her powers just as the other changed, but they can come in two forms. When she goes beyond that limit, she'll start to suffer symptoms akin to a heat stroke. Signs of delirium, nausea, vomiting, blurred vision, fatigue, and an accelerated heart rate. Ignoring these signs will lead to cardiac arrest, followed by her heart weakening to a point where it will give out completely. The second, more dangerous version of this is her unleashed state. If her emotions are running rampant, the inferno she causes will start to consume her, burning her away until she is nothing but ash.

R E L A T I O N S

● Natalie Kaplen-Meadows is Makiah's sister, who is two years older.
● Elliora Kaplen is their mother of forty-nine.
● Arcturo Meadows is their father of fifty-two.

Garden of Shadow (Horror, Human Mutations, and Monsters)

@Adora Bell Absolutely!

Garden of Shadow (Horror, Human Mutations, and Monsters) [ADV]

OOC/IC

_{"They gave Pandora a box. Prometheus begged her not to open it.
She opened it. Every evil to which human flesh is heir came out of it.
The last thing to come out of the box was hope. It flew away."
~ Kurt Vonnegut, Timequake}

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You're sitting there, alone, huddled in a corner shaking with fear and terror, only slightly numbed by shock. Outside you can hear nothing but pure turmoil, the shrill screams of people being torn down in the streets to the rhythmic echoes of gunfire and pounding explosions. Hours earlier you were carefree, living in the city of splendor and going about your day. You were filled with hope, the war on your home soil was finally being won, life was good. Then, as if on the drop of a dime, everything fell to ruin. Every two out of three people fell to the ground, catatonic, a blackness creeping into their eyes and in veins that spider-webbed across their skin.

You'd later know to call these people, these creatures, the Feral—but for now you sit there and listen as these things of nightmare rampage across the city. Destroying everything you've ever known, your loved ones, your friends, literally ripping your hopes and dreams from you. Hope is fleeting, as the chaos outside seems to pick up to a roaring cacophony of noise. The metallic door begins to screech, you look up, peering into the bleak shadows of night at the profusely bleeding hand trying to desperately to get at you. The body connected to the arm lets out a guttural roar, you've seen first hand what these things can do. How fast they are, how strong, how they hunt with reckless abandon-trampling and spilling over one another to get at their prey. It's time to move.

As you head for the back, a disturbing though crosses your mind, one from earlier in the day. Watching from an alleyway as a horde of people.. no, they're not people anymore are they? A horde of these ferals, swarm down the street as a man perched atop a bus guns them down in the dozens. They keep getting back up, uncaring of their wounds, only truly stopped by being shot in the head, or at least crippled. But what's truly frightening was their speed, their carelessness. They were sprinting towards the bus, leaping and smashing into it, the force of all these bodies pile-driving those before them until the bus began to tip, and finally rolled over.

That thought scares you, a fear that settles deep into your bones. Yet, somehow, there's a deeper feeling sinking inside of you. A dark pit resonating from within you, because you know... It's only going to get worse from here. As you dwell on this thought, you can feel something stirring deep within you. Some sort of resonation of change, of power.

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Garden of Shadows is a unique take on a viral, apocalyptic roleplay. The monsters are bigger, and meaner; Our characters powerful, and unique. The events to come, extraordinary and terrible. I've collected my favorite elements from a wide range of movies, games, and stories and compiled them all here. With superpowers comes odd, twisted mutation. With change, comes resistance, prejudice. With hate, violence, and the inevitable struggle to survive. All set in a world that will do it's absolute best to swallow your character into the darkness, to break them physically and mentally. A world that is shaped by your decisions, and ultimately, your goals.

The roleplay centers around a select group of people, affected by the Pandora Virus in such a way that they become something inhuman, something powerful—The Changed. A higher ascension of existence, our characters now have to struggle with their new powers, the social discrimination, and the cruelty of the world. How they approach their new found talents will shape the world, for better or for worse. Some may sympathize with The Pure, humans who are either unaffected, or have yet to be, by the virus.

In addition to this, over the course of the roleplay our characters will deal with survival against the Feral, The Nightmare, and The Twisted. The characters still very much require food, and water, and so do their followers if they have any. Settlements will need to find a way to benefit from others, through mutual alliance, or force. The world will also be subject to, what will at first seem like, paranormal events. However, there is a reason for everything, a root cause to all problems. Finding out those answers are also up to you.

However, in all of this, there is a goal. A driving plot, surrounding P̸͜͏͞r̨̡̛̛͞ǫ̸̀̕͟j̢̢̧͢͡ȩ̵c̵͘t̵͟͟ ̧F̛͡i̸r̸s̸͞t̡̡͜͝ ̷͟͜͞Ç͜h͟҉҉̴a̧̛͠ò̧s͘̕҉ . Sorry, I meant P̵̡̢r̴̛͡o̷j̸́e̵͟͜ç̶̕t̨ ̡͟F̀͜i̸̷r̵̕sţ ̷͜͜C̴h̨͟a͘͠o̴̴̧ś͠. Dammit. Anyways, that, and its subjects. How does this relate to what's happening the world now? Will it explain your powers? The Feral? The anomalic events? Will it explain why the sun set, on that first day, and never rose again?

The final piece of revelation I have for you is that the world is shrouded in darkness. After that first day, the sun didn't rise again. Instead, in its place loomed roiling banks of dark clouds. A perpetual brewing storm in abyssal shades of black and gray, filtering out nearly all of the light. Fortunately, the power plant is secure and the municipal lights are on. Sure, they may kill your night vision at times, but it's better than the eerie darkness that lays over everything right? However, the world is dark, but it's not pitch black, and with streetlights on, it's not so bad right now.

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_{Blood Type: O-Positive & A-Positive}

Creatures of this sort have been depicted in many different ways, but the Feral are something different, yet familiar. They're fast, always sprinting with their heads bent low into the wind. They don't tire, they don't ache, they just run without care. They are strong enough to tear through the walls of a house, or rip down that metal screen door you always tried not to slam. However, the feral can't see well, so they're mostly attracted to noise. If you're being blatantly obvious, they will see you, so remember to stick to the shadows.

Interestingly enough, the feral don't seem particularly smart. They don't seem to grasp the concepts of navigation, rather seeing the path to their target as a straight line. They are wild, and become frenzied during the chase to the point where they will tumble and run over one another, or continually smash themselves into something until they a certain they've lost the hunt, or their obstacle is moved. Hordes of them can topple a bus, by continually throwing themselves against it. Together they could smash through a brick wall, or even scale several stories by climbing the gathering pile of their brethren.

The Feral are characterized with dark eyes almost entirely the color of coal. Their pale skin is spider-webbed with black veins, but otherwise they still resemble the people they once were. The feral also have near perfect regeneration, able to come back from any wound within about a day, less for minor wounds. You can slow them down by crippling them, but the only way to truly stop them is the same, classic strategies—destroy the brain or spinal column.

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_{Blood Type: B-Negative (Somatic Abilities)
Blood Type: AB-Positive (Kinetic Abilities)}

There are two types of changed, the kinetic, and the somatic. Those that deal with the forces, or essences of nature, natural or not; or those that are affected physically or mentally. The lucky individuals to become changed, instead of something worse, have the unfortunate side-effect of mutation. These mutations always come in colors schemes of dark colors, most notably black, with vibrant details or trimmings. Almost the same way how natural predators are marked, such as how a deadly black snake will have bright markings to visually warn potential predators of how dangerous it is.

Those with kinetic powers of manipulation can feature neon colors in the form of glowing energy. For example, a changed that can generate an acidic coating on their skin may be covered in glowing bubbles of flesh, like blisters, that glow a vibrant green. One who could generate blasts of lightning may have their back and the outsides of their arms covered in black spikes, that gather the electrical energy in the air. Perhaps while doing this, bright blue arcs jump between the spikes, like a "Jacob's Ladder" electrical device.

The Somatic however, have enhanced physical capabilities, senses, or mentality. A changed of great strength may have their arms covered in a thick, black chitin acting like armor. One that could run at accelerated speeds may have strategic, aerodynamic fins and so forth. It will be up to you to create these creepy, otherworldly mutations.

A very important note, The Changed are not an instant genetic bomb like the Feral. These powers could take some time to manifest, the mutations wouldn't be so virulent as to cover their entire body. For the most part, The Changed still look like people, if a bit different and terrifying. The Changed will face trials in dealing with, and learning to control their new powers. Elemental or manipulation, also known as Kinetic, powers may only work sporadically, where a somatic may find their stamina depletes rapidly. And always, as the world turns, so do people fear changed and the unknown.

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In this land of violence and despair, it's not unlikely that you'll eventually encounter other beings. A volatile thing, the Pandora Virus is bound to have plenty of offshoots of hard-coded, and variable strains. It's predicted that entire species of animals can fall prey to these mutations. You'll encounter people similar to the changed, but pushed beyond their humanity—The Twisted. At other times, things of nightmare will stalk you throughout the endless night, creatures so fearsome and terrible that it may not be worth the trouble to fight them.

Then there's the Protogenoi, so little is known about them. Are they like the Changed? The Twisted? Are they people of nightmare, or gods among men? Are they the scientists, or unfortunate subjects? And most importantly, are they to blame? What about the uninfected, unaffected humans—The Pure? Are they truly immune, or just safe for now? Is there a way to prevent that, and keep them genetically pure? Or are you looking for a way to ensure everybody is changed, one way or another, for better or for worse?

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Sometimes it's pointless to add in rules when most people should know what they are doing in the first place, but alas, if we do not then we are only hindering the roleplay itself.

» Treat one another as you want to be treated

Yes we are going all religious on this one, but this should cover the majority of attitude based problems. Respect your GM and any Co-GMs, treat your fellow players with the decency that they deserve, and understand that our primary concern is the progression of this roleplay and the comfort of the players. Any individual who challenges that will be removed from the RP.

» Powerplaying, Metagaming, Godmodding, etc

Don't do it. If you do not understand any of these terms then please read this page: [Common Rules of Roleplaying]

» Posting and Collaborations

This roleplay will be moving along at a pace of about 1 or 2 posts per fortnight, leaving enough time for each player to comfortably respond with a decent post. Any collaborate posts should keep in consideration the number of players that are involved and the times at which these players are available. If you are having difficulty completing the post see if there is a way to separate your characters so that your efforts don't hold up the group as a whole.

» Writing Horror

In this roleplay it is possible that we will be exploring mature themes. The rules revolving around maturity are intended to be loosely interpreted. However, the key here is to always keep it tasteful. Avoid explicit words, over-the-top scenes, and details of passion. Always keep your writing tasteful, and employ the most useful tools at your disposal: Implication and Fade-to-Black.

» Discord [Garden of Shadow Discord Server]

We do have a Discord server set up for people that wish to chat. It's easy to join and will help connect you with your fellow players. Guild/RP rules will apply there so don't do anything to jeopardise your chances in participating.

» Inactivity and Dropping Players

Your own activity is your own concern. We may write out players that are unnecessarily inactive after a given amount of time. If something should come up please inform us ahead of schedule.

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Character Name:
Simple, choose a name for your character.
Gender:
Pick a gender of your choice
Age:
Age must be a minimum of 18. We don't want any issues with minors.
Blood Type:
Which blood type is your character? B-negative for Somatic; physical, mental, or sensory enhanced. AB-positive for Kinetic; Elemental, Manipulation, or other similar powers.
Mutations:
List the types of mutations that the character has. Remember that there are two types based on your character's blood type so be sure to not mix up the two.
Appearance:
What does your character look like? Describe their mutations in detail.
Personality:
How does your character act? You don't have to be incredibly specific, but a general overview will be fine. It's also understood that characters will deviate from their personality at times.
Biography:
What was your character's life like before the outbreak? How did they get to be where they are now? How did the events of The First Day play out for them? Since this section can get pretty long, it's alright to put it in a hider.
Equipment:
What kind of armaments is your character packing? Any snazzy devices?
Proficiencies:
These are the skills and trades your character has. What sort of mutative benefits do they have? Do they have any trade skills or craft knowledge?
Limitations:
Balance this against your characters proficiencies, what are their down falls? Do they have mental problems, phobias, physical limitations? Also, the drawbacks and weaknesses to their powers.
Companions/Friends/Relations:
Pretty self-explanatory. If your character has any important relations with NPCs, or other characters list them here.

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Thank you: @Architect@ClocktowerEchos@Kangaroo@Rekaigan@Masque@NuttsnBoltsFor all of your help and support! Thank you for helping me create this, and may this roleplay see a long life.

Garden of Shadow (Horror, Human Mutations, and Monsters)

@The Survivor I have an alternate timeline drawn up, for the OOC. It's really just fluff, but imporant, white pocket fluff.

The basics is that we're in an alternate timeline New York City, now Windsor City, of New Windsor, of the year 2026.

Here's The OOC Timeline:

Alternate U.S. History

A list of key events in chronological order until the present year.

» 1664

New Amsterdam, a Dutch territory on the eastern seaboard of North America is seized by English forces and renamed to New York in honor of the Duke of York.

» 1775

American Revolution: The War of Independence is fought between Great Britain and the 13 British Colonies on the eastern seaboard of North America.

» 1776

Continental Congress adopts the Declaration of Independence in Philadelphia. New York is renamed to New Windsor, symbolizing the 13 Colonies’ seat of power following the idea of Governance by the people, for the people. The town of New York is thusly titled Windsor.

» 1778

The American colonies form a treaty with the Native Indians, who join the war against Great Britain.

» 1781

British General Charles Cornwallis surrenders to General George Washington and Cherokee Chieftain “Dragging Canoe” at Yorktown, VA.

» 1783

Great Britain formally acknowledges American independence in the Treaty of Paris, which officially brings the war to a close.

» 1789

George Washington is unanimously elected president of the United States in a vote by state electors. U.S Constitution goes into effect, having been ratified by nine states. U.S Congress meets for the first time at Federal Hall in Windsor City. Washington is inaugurated as president at Federal Hall in Windsor City. “Dragging Canoe”, Chieftain of the Cherokee Tribe, serves as Washington’s vice president.

» 1791

First ten amendments to the Constitution, known as the Bill of Rights, are ratified.

» 1793

Washington’s second inauguration is held in Windsor City, “Dragging Canoe” steps down and John Adams serves as the vice president for Washington’s second term.

» 1800

The U.S capital remains in Windsor City.

» 1838

President Andrew Jackson signs a pact with the Cherokee Chieftain John Ross, Also known as “Little White Bird”, ensuring lasting peace and prosperity between the Americans and Indians.

» 1876

“Sitting Bull”, Chieftain of the Sioux Indians, signs a treaty of peace with President Ulysses S. Grant and “Old Tassel”, Chieftain of the Cherokee.

» 1886

Statue of Justice is constructed in Windsor, on Justice Island, with the help of the Cherokee and Sioux Indians.

» 1917

U.S enters World War I, declaring war on Germany and Austria-Hungary.

» 1918

Russian forces sweep through Germany, effectively ending the war and ceding Germany and Austria-Hungary into Russian territory.

» 1919

League of Nations meets for the first time; The U.S is represented.

» 1939

Adolf Hitler becomes a federal minister of the Russian Federation.

» 1945

League of Nations becomes the United Nations.

» 1950

Cold War Conflict between Communist and non-Communist forces on Korean Peninsula begins, U.S does not intervene. North and South Korea are assimilated into Chinese territory.

» 1991

Tensions rise between the Russian and Chinese powers as demands for raw resources increases. Tensions rise further as a small civil land dispute between Russian and Chinese administration ends with shots fired, neither party admits to shooting first.

» 2014

The Red War begins between Russian and Chinese forces. The UN chooses to stay neutral as they investigate what sparked the war, but urgues for a cease fire. Russian forces march into Chinese territory.

» 2015

UN continues to remain neutral as the war spills out across Chinese borders and into the middle east. UN threatens action against both countries if battles continue in neutral countries. U.S is urged into action, being a leading world power, but remains neural. European forces take action against Chinese and Russian forces skirmishing in neutral territory, and World War III begins.

» 2017

U.S joins the war, supporting their UN allies against Russian and Chinese forces. UN forces push through the war torn Middle East supported by African forces deploying from Northern Africa. Chinese forces continually harry UN supply lines, keeping UN forces undersupplied and hungry. A conflict begins between American and Central European forces over supplies and ends with dead on both sides.

» 2019

U.S recedes from the UN, unhappy with their decisions and accusing safeguarding their own resources and manpower while American lives are wasted. A four way war begins between UN backed European Union, The Russian Federation, The Republic of China, and The United States.

» 2020

U.S is pushed out of the war and forced back across the ocean. Russian forces hit the western seaboard of North America.

» 2021

Russian Missiles strike U.S soil, decimating much of the western seaboard and sending refugees flooding east. Canadian and Mexican forces continue fighting Russian troops. Russia declares the western seaboard of North America as part of Russian Territory, laying claim to California, Oregon, Washington and the inland states of Nevada, Utah, Arizona, Idaho, and Montana.

» 2022

U.S forces carry out Operation Black Swallow, deploying an experimental tactical unit created by the Center of Scientific Research. Operation Black Swallow is a massive success, and quickly shatters the Russian war front.

» 2023

Rumors about a scientific research project, “Project First Chaos”, surfaces. Activists claim the project employs inhumane acts against humans. More devout accusers claim that the CoSR is attempting to play god. Riots begin across the eastern seaboard of North America in protest to Pr͟ojec̸t F͡ir͝s͜t͢ ̀Ch́ao͡s̨. The Russians are pushed back to the edge of the west coast.

» 2024

The Russian’s retreat across the Pacific Ocean. Operation Black Swallow is deemed an undeniable success. Violent protests against P̵̡̢r̴̛͡o̷j̸́e̵͟͜ç̶̕t̨ ̡͟F̀͜i̸̷r̵̕sţ ̷͜͜C̴h̨͟a͘͠o̴̴̧ś͠ continue as U.S troops are recalled from the war front. Martial law is declared in New Windsor, New Jersey, Virginia, and Florida.

» 2025

The U.S is on the cusp of Civil War, while war rages across the eastern continents. Questions arise internationally about Operation Black Swallow, and the rumored P̸͜͏͞r̨̡̛̛͞ǫ̸̀̕͟j̢̢̧͢͡ȩ̵c̵͘t̵͟͟ ̧F̛͡i̸r̸s̸͞t̡̡͜͝ ̷͟͜͞Ç͜h͟҉҉̴a̧̛͠ò̧s͘̕҉. Viral videos surface online, detailing mysterious events during Operation Black Swallow. The Center of Scientific Research is overran by rioters, and falls victim to Arson.

» 2026

Strange events begin occurring around the same time an airborne pathogen is discovered. A whistleblower admits to conducting unnatural, weird science within the CoSR, but quickly succumbs to madness and violence. World War III ends as roughly half of the world's population succumbs to a unique strain of the pathogen. The pati̧̢̜̠̞̞̝̥̥͕͘ps̶̵̛̥̫͚̪̠̯͉͕̰̹̯͍̼͓̘̱̯̥̯͜͢umdo҉l͞o͞r͠ ̡ si͡ta͠m̸eţ,́ ͠c̴o͘n͟s̢ecţetu̷r̀d͝ip͡i̴s͞cin҉g̴ ̶ l̴i̡t͝.N̴̛u͟҉l͠͠҉là̕m ͝ t̨͢͞ȩmp̀͜o͘r̷̷, ̀ ş͢͝è̷͞m ̡e҉͢͜ć ̨i̡n̴͏͏te҉ŗ̛͏d͢u̵͝m͡͞҉ ̶d̕̕͟i̛͏g̀͟n̢̢i̛͘̕s̡͠s͟͝i̢͏m, ͞͝n̢i̕b́͟҉h͜ ̷ú̸r̡̡͡n҉̕a͟͟ ͡èf̨̕͡fi̷c̸̢ì҉̷tu̢͢r̸͡ ̧n͏̛eq̵͡͏ue̴t͏̴̡͞ ̴̡͞d̵̢̢͜͠i̡͏̴̧͡c̷̸t̷̛u̧m̷͝ ̵m̴͏à͢͠g̷͠n̢̢͢a͢͟͝͏̶ ̸̴á̕͘n҉̛͘ţ̴̕e̵͡ ̡̢̛͟i̢҉͠d̢̀͝͡͞ ̧̢́͜p̷̴͟͡u͜͏r̷̶͘͠u̷͜s̷̸̀͟.̛̕̕ ҉͡ ̲̭̘̘̀Q̖̘̭͢͡͡u̱̺̱̻̙͚̱i̡͍͈s̰͕̦͙̫̳͎q̴͎̩̠̺̲̬̺͡u̶̩̙̦̖̜̕e̱̩̼̫ ̷͓̜͉̘̟͎s̡̭͡ò̩̬̦̰͉̗l̛̗͔̟̰͖̭̬͟͞l̼̠͕̙̥͉͟͝ͅį͙͔̮̠ͅc͖̰̗̪̬͞͞ͅí̸̧̙̺t͎͉͉u̼̼͖̝̹̼̙͢͡d̫͔͔̳̫̫̙͢ͅi̷̖̲̱͔̞͖͜ͅṇ͕͖̥̖ ͖̺͖͕ą̬̹̠̠̣̱n͈͖t̠͙̟̬̼̝͓e͚̯̩̘͇͖̮͙̣ ͓̲͙̭͖̫ͅi̜̫n͚̥̙͟ ̶̴̦̝͎͉̘͇͘ͅi̷̡̩̝̥̹͎̞̙̗a̲̼̺c̵͖̭̣̳̭̤͚̰̕͡u̻̘̱̱l͔̜͙̝i̵͖̕͞s͏̼̟̠̹̭͘ ̧̦͜v̕҉̞͚̫̠̖̞͎̜̠e̷̝͔̭n̴̢͚͠e̮̘̫̘͞n̺̭͎͚͍̞̩̤á͕̜̙̀͜t̛̝̹͍̝́͝i̛̱͓̠̯͍̯͚͉͜ͅs̰͉͘.͙̪͚͚͎̲̠̀͞

ᐜᏨ̥͎̻͚͓╞̖͇̙͖͇̭֘ͅ͏͉ᗛ̶̮̤̭ᦉ҉̜̲͚͍⒕͙̙̜͓͓ἧ͔̩̣͚̫೯̮ᶷ̧͚͖͔͇ͅ˷̺̳͇͜⊶̖̦͘᱖̠̮͖̗̹᠅̧Ἃ͍ႜ̖͙̯̯͈͉ƶ҉͖ᅏ̙ ̮̣̘ ͍̜̮̺̕ ̥́ ̴͇͕̳̰ᾢ̶͈̦ሗ̤̤̜̙╛̛̘̟̞̩̫͚ᦡ̗Ꮄ͏͖̲͍͖̝ᙽ̱͚̗̩͙͜܆̵̗̮̯໘̷̦ ̵̪͓̠̰̘̰ᓋ ̛̤̯̻̼͖ሳ̸ߜ̗̻F̸̣͈̣̠̼̣͙̠̹̭̭̖͓̩͕́͡ͅͅé͖͇͎̟͎͎̜̱̳̰̯̬̠̕͝͝r̛̯̝̟̘͎̙̳̼̬̀͘͝ͅኺ̹̙͈̼͝ᵲҴ̟̻᠃̵ ̮͉̼͚͞ͅ☶̫̰̙̜〉̘̲̺͙͈̬͇ڀ̼̦̞͙̯̗͖Ƚ̠͓̤̠ᘓ̣̯̝̥ͅዿ̗̬♭̴̸̺͖̟̰̟͔̩̙ͅᛙ̢̨̠̗ͅ⁚̴̮͉̻̥ӯ̴̨̙̬̝̠̯͘ọ̷̮̙̼̱̼̤͚̇̄́ᖄ̖̯̞͉̱̬ỷ͍̰֪̞̲͢ ̮̤P̶͉͕͍͙͈̝̣͜͡r͏̶͏̴̺̰͓̟̟̮̟̘o̸͏̷͇̝̙̹̗̠͖̺͞ͅj̶͈̙̦͉̫̥̳͔̖͎̥̕͟͝e̵̶̘͕̮̲̥͍͎͚͘ͅc̨͏̵̠̮̝̯͈̙̠̱̝̖͚̝̜͚̳͖͖ṱ̨̦͚͔̭̲̰̘͇̩̯̺̖͘͢ͅ ̢̦̜̖͍̦̺̝̬̦͓̣̳́͡F̶̧͎̭͓̰̩̤̙̻͙̹͍͓i̧̢̜̠̞̞̝̥̥͕͘r͜҉̲̦̻̻͍͎̪͉̼͍̮̖̪̤͙̣̙͜s̶̵̛̥̫͚̪̠̯͉͕̰̹̯͍̼͓̘̱̯̥̯͜͢t҉̶͘͏̥̼̖͔͍͕͈̞̯̘̯͈̺͠ ̵̢̛̭̥̹̼̣̺͠C̶̡̡̞͚͍͍͎̱̘͟͢h̢͔̯̟̖̘̦̦͇͕̯̝̀a̵̻̟͇̣̹̫̥̜̥͉͕̝̣̺̗̘̜͔͜͜͡ͅo̵̴͍̩̗̦̻̺̮͚̘̟̝̠̯̙͘͢͞s̴̢̭̞͚̙̲̲̩̪͝ͅ⎄̢̞͢͠ͅ␏̢̪̗̟̰̪͕̬͜ఒ̫͠ռ̸̨̛̺̩Œ̴̫̳̱͚͍̞̞͠ ͏̯͎ ̷̸̱̫͡ ̷̛̰̝̪̺͉̤Ế̴̶͉̩̺͍̠̹ἤ̶̺̙̼͔̫մ̫͔̠ዂ̦͚̪͙̟͉̰̳̩͠ú̶͕̮̳̯ᤛ̳͍̫͞ಢ̸̲̝͚̠̜̻͢⌇̵̴͍̞̫̳̝͚֕˛̧̪՟̻͢¶̗̼ͅᖡ̘̱̘͙̻̹̀Ꮰ̛̰̞̠̦᧴̞̦̰͈͇ͅᏺ̴̮͖̰̰̻̱̤ᨎ̷̥͓̙̯̦͙ᓮ̰̟̟̲̕␊̰͇╗̛ ̺͖̺ѩщ͕̱̩̻͡Ξ̦≳̗̯᧕̶☜̛̺̙̲̳̝̤̲͖͈̺᷃́௦̼‡͙̦̼͢ͅ≩̤̳̯̦ᐹ̨͓͖̳͎͙̗͉┇͉̤̦̫̺̲–̴

^{[ Arc͍̜̼hiv̻͈̗̱̦͟e ̸̰̮͎ͅErro͖̮͇̖̦̤̣r ]}

Sorry about the typos, still screening the OOC. Just fixed a bunch of them.

Garden of Shadow (Horror, Human Mutations, and Monsters)

I like to think that I've created something both awesome, and unique, hehe. Glad to have you on-board!

Garden of Shadow (Horror, Human Mutations, and Monsters)

OOC/IC

_{"They gave Pandora a box. Prometheus begged her not to open it.
She opened it. Every evil to which human flesh is heir came out of it.
The last thing to come out of the box was hope. It flew away."
~ Kurt Vonnegut, Timequake}

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You're sitting there, alone, huddled in a corner shaking with fear and terror, only slightly numbed by shock. Outside you can hear nothing but pure turmoil, the shrill screams of people being torn down in the streets to the rhythmic echoes of gunfire and pounding explosions. Hours earlier you were carefree, living in the city of splendor and going about your day. You were filled with hope, the war on your home soil was finally being won, life was good. Then, as if on the drop of a dime, everything fell to ruin. Every two out of three people fell to the ground, catatonic, a blackness creeping into their eyes and in veins that spider-webbed across their skin.

You'd later know to call these people, these creatures, the Feral—but for now you sit there and listen as these things of nightmare rampage across the city. Destroying everything you've ever known, your loved ones, your friends, literally ripping your hopes and dreams from you. Hope is fleeting, as the chaos outside seems to pick up to a roaring cacophony of noise. The metallic door begins to screech, you look up, peering into the bleak shadows of night at the profusely bleeding hand trying to desperately to get at you. The body connected to the arm lets out a guttural roar, you've seen first hand what these things can do. How fast they are, how strong, how they hunt with reckless abandon-trampling and spilling over one another to get at their prey. It's time to move.

As you head for the back, a disturbing though crosses your mind, one from earlier in the day. Watching from an alleyway as a horde of people.. no, they're not people anymore are they? A horde of these ferals, swarm down the street as a man perched atop a bus guns them down in the dozens. They keep getting back up, uncaring of their wounds, only truly stopped by being shot in the head, or at least crippled. But what's truly frightening was their speed, their carelessness. They were sprinting towards the bus, leaping and smashing into it, the force of all these bodies pile-driving those before them until the bus began to tip, and finally rolled over.

That thought scares you, a fear that settles deep into your bones. Yet, somehow, there's a deeper feeling sinking inside of you. A dark pit resonating from within you, because you know... It's only going to get worse from here. As you dwell on this thought, you can feel something stirring deep within you. Some sort of resonation of change, of power.

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Garden of Shadows is a unique take on a viral, apocalyptic roleplay. The monsters are bigger, and meaner; Our characters powerful, and unique. The events to come, extraordinary and terrible. I've collected my favorite elements from a wide range of movies, games, and stories and compiled them all here. With superpowers comes odd, twisted mutation. With change, comes resistance, prejudice. With hate, violence, and the inevitable struggle to survive. All set in a world that will do it's absolute best to swallow your character into the darkness, to break them physically and mentally. A world that is shaped by your decisions, and ultimately, your goals.

The roleplay centers around a select group of people, affected by the Pandora Virus in such a way that they become something inhuman, something powerful—The Changed. A higher ascension of existence, our characters now have to struggle with their new powers, the social discrimination, and the cruelty of the world. How they approach their new found talents will shape the world, for better or for worse. Some may sympathize with The Pure, humans who are either unaffected, or have yet to be, by the virus.

In addition to this, over the course of the roleplay our characters will deal with survival against the Feral, The Nightmare, and The Twisted. The characters still very much require food, and water, and so do their followers if they have any. Settlements will need to find a way to benefit from others, through mutual alliance, or force. The world will also be subject to, what will at first seem like, paranormal events. However, there is a reason for everything, a root cause to all problems. Finding out those answers are also up to you.

However, in all of this, there is a goal. A driving plot, surrounding P̸͜͏͞r̨̡̛̛͞ǫ̸̀̕͟j̢̢̧͢͡ȩ̵c̵͘t̵͟͟ ̧F̛͡i̸r̸s̸͞t̡̡͜͝ ̷͟͜͞Ç͜h͟҉҉̴a̧̛͠ò̧s͘̕҉ . Sorry, I meant P̵̡̢r̴̛͡o̷j̸́e̵͟͜ç̶̕t̨ ̡͟F̀͜i̸̷r̵̕sţ ̷͜͜C̴h̨͟a͘͠o̴̴̧ś͠. Dammit. Anyways, that, and its subjects. How does this relate to what's happening the world now? Will it explain your powers? The Feral? The anomalic events? Will it explain why the sun set, on that first day, and never rose again?

The final piece of revelation I have for you is that the world is shrouded in darkness. After that first day, the sun didn't rise again. Instead, in its place loomed roiling banks of dark clouds. A perpetual brewing storm in abyssal shades of black and gray, filtering out nearly all of the light. Fortunately, the power plant is secure and the municipal lights are on. Sure, they may kill your night vision at times, but it's better than the eerie darkness that lays over everything right? However, the world is dark, but it's not pitch black, and with streetlights on, it's not so bad right now.

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_{Blood Type: O-Positive & A-Positive}

Creatures of this sort have been depicted in many different ways, but the Feral are something different, yet familiar. They're fast, always sprinting with their heads bent low into the wind. They don't tire, they don't ache, they just run without care. They are strong enough to tear through the walls of a house, or rip down that metal screen door you always tried not to slam. However, the feral can't see well, so they're mostly attracted to noise. If you're being blatantly obvious, they will see you, so remember to stick to the shadows.

Interestingly enough, the feral don't seem particularly smart. They don't seem to grasp the concepts of navigation, rather seeing the path to their target as a straight line. They are wild, and become frenzied during the chase to the point where they will tumble and run over one another, or continually smash themselves into something until they a certain they've lost the hunt, or their obstacle is moved. Hordes of them can topple a bus, by continually throwing themselves against it. Together they could smash through a brick wall, or even scale several stories by climbing the gathering pile of their brethren.

The Feral are characterized with dark eyes almost entirely the color of coal. Their pale skin is spider-webbed with black veins, but otherwise they still resemble the people they once were. The feral also have near perfect regeneration, able to come back from any wound within about a day, less for minor wounds. You can slow them down by crippling them, but the only way to truly stop them is the same, classic strategies—destroy the brain or spinal column.

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_{Blood Type: B-Negative (Somatic Abilities)
Blood Type: AB-Positive (Kinetic Abilities)}

There are two types of changed, the kinetic, and the somatic. Those that deal with the forces, or essences of nature, natural or not; or those that are affected physically or mentally. The lucky individuals to become changed, instead of something worse, have the unfortunate side-effect of mutation. These mutations always come in colors schemes relating to what the mutation provides and in typically darker hues, most notably black, with vibrant details or trimmings. Almost the same way how natural predators are marked, such as how a deadly black snake will have bright markings to visually warn potential predators of how dangerous it is.

Those with kinetic powers of manipulation can feature neon colors in the form of glowing energy. For example, a changed that can generate an acidic coating on their skin may be covered in glowing bubbles of flesh, like blisters, that glow a vibrant green. One who could generate blasts of lightning may have their back and the outsides of their arms covered in black spikes, that gather the electrical energy in the air. Perhaps while doing this, bright blue arcs jump between the spikes, like a "Jacob's Ladder" electrical device.

The Somatic however, have enhanced physical capabilities, senses, or mentality. A changed of great strength may have their arms covered in a thick, black chitin acting like armor. One that could run at accelerated speeds may have strategic, aerodynamic fins and so forth. It will be up to you to create these creepy, otherworldly mutations.

A very important note, The Changed are not an instant genetic bomb like the Feral. These powers could take some time to manifest, the mutations wouldn't be so virulent as to cover their entire body. For the most part, The Changed still look like people, if a bit different and terrifying. The Changed will face trials in dealing with, and learning to control their new powers. Elemental or manipulation, also known as Kinetic, powers may only work sporadically, where a somatic may find their stamina depletes rapidly. And always, as the world turns, so do people fear changed and the unknown.

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In this land of violence and despair, it's not unlikely that you'll eventually encounter other beings. A volatile thing, the Pandora Virus is bound to have plenty of offshoots of hard-coded, and variable strains. It's predicted that entire species of animals can fall prey to these mutations. You'll encounter people similar to the changed, but pushed beyond their humanity—The Twisted. At other times, things of nightmare will stalk you throughout the endless night, creatures so fearsome and terrible that it may not be worth the trouble to fight them.

Then there's the Protogenoi, so little is known about them. Are they like the Changed? The Twisted? Are they people of nightmare, or gods among men? Are they the scientists, or unfortunate subjects? And most importantly, are they to blame? What about the uninfected, unaffected humans—The Pure? Are they truly immune, or just safe for now? Is there a way to prevent that, and keep them genetically pure? Or are you looking for a way to ensure everybody is changed, one way or another, for better or for worse?

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Sometimes it's pointless to add in rules when most people should know what they are doing in the first place, but alas, if we do not then we are only hindering the roleplay itself.

» Treat one another as you want to be treated

Yes we are going all religious on this one, but this should cover the majority of attitude based problems. Respect your GM and any Co-GMs, treat your fellow players with the decency that they deserve, and understand that our primary concern is the progression of this roleplay and the comfort of the players. Any individual who challenges that will be removed from the RP.

» Powerplaying, Metagaming, Godmodding, etc

Don't do it. If you do not understand any of these terms then please read this page: [Common Rules of Roleplaying]

» Posting and Collaborations

This roleplay will be moving along at a pace of about 1 or 2 posts per fortnight, leaving enough time for each player to comfortably respond with a decent post. Any collaborate posts should keep in consideration the number of players that are involved and the times at which these players are available. If you are having difficulty completing the post see if there is a way to separate your characters so that your efforts don't hold up the group as a whole.

» Writing Horror

In this roleplay it is possible that we will be exploring mature themes. The rules revolving around maturity are intended to be loosely interpreted. However, the key here is to always keep it tasteful. Avoid explicit words, over-the-top scenes, and details of passion. Always keep your writing tasteful, and employ the most useful tools at your disposal: Implication and Fade-to-Black.

» Discord [Garden of Shadow Discord Server]

We do have a Discord server set up for people that wish to chat. It's easy to join and will help connect you with your fellow players. Guild/RP rules will apply there so don't do anything to jeopardise your chances in participating.

» Inactivity and Dropping Players

Your own activity is your own concern. We may write out players that are unnecessarily inactive after a given amount of time. If something should come up please inform us ahead of schedule.

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Character Name:
Simple, choose a name for your character.
Gender:
Pick a gender of your choice
Age:
Age must be a minimum of 18. We don't want any issues with minors.
Blood Type:
Which blood type is your character? B-negative for Somatic; physical, mental, or sensory enhanced. AB-positive for Kinetic; Elemental, Manipulation, or other similar powers.
Mutations:
List the types of mutations that the character has. Remember that there are two types based on your character's blood type so be sure to not mix up the two.
Appearance:
What does your character look like? Describe their mutations in detail.
Personality:
How does your character act? You don't have to be incredibly specific, but a general overview will be fine. It's also understood that characters will deviate from their personality at times.
Biography:
What was your character's life like before the outbreak? How did they get to be where they are now? How did the events of The First Day play out for them? Since this section can get pretty long, it's alright to put it in a hider.
Equipment:
What kind of armaments is your character packing? Any snazzy devices?
Proficiencies:
These are the skills and trades your character has. What sort of mutative benefits do they have? Do they have any trade skills or craft knowledge?
Limitations:
Balance this against your characters proficiencies, what are their down falls? Do they have mental problems, phobias, physical limitations? Also, the drawbacks and weaknesses to their powers.
Companions/Friends/Relations:
Pretty self-explanatory. If your character has any important relations with NPCs, or other characters list them here.

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Thank you: @Architect@ClocktowerEchos@Kangaroo@Rekaigan@Masque@NuttsnBoltsFor all of your help and support! Thank you for helping me create this, and may this roleplay see a long life.